


Swan Lake

by Sakuraiai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Class Differences, Class Issues, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Angst, Pigeons, Swans, Were-Creatures, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2018-12-27 16:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: The beautiful swan Castiel has been watching the pigeon Dean Winchester from afar for many years now, ever since his large flock landed in their city and lived in the outskirts of his home. But he has no intention to ever meet Dean or his family.After all, a majestic swan and a lowly pigeon could never be together.Or at least, that's what his brothers say.But after a tragic accident, Castiel finds himself free from his archaic family, with a broken wing and stuck with no where to go. The Winchester's flock find him, and take care of him, and slowly Castiel finds out just what he has been missing in his life.A loving family.And maybe, just maybe, he can confess his feelings to Dean and hopefully join the divide between the swans and the pigeons.





	1. A Hand at Dusk

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac for the great idea!  
> Sorry it took so long.  
> I hope this does your idea justice. I kinda took it and ran away with it.
> 
> Chapter titles taken from the music of Swan Lake (so grain of salt, because I don't know a lick about ballet...eheheh)

The night had fallen quickly over Swan Lake Park. The large moon was shining brightly, illuminating the large pool of water that took over the middle of the parks courtyard.

Swan Lake Park was famous in the city, people from far and wide came to see the majestic swans that lived there. The fountain itself was not like an ordinary fountain, oh no. For one thing, it was as large as a lake, with a deep depth that spanned over ten feet, leading up to a shallow point at the edges for those who wished to dip their feet in the cold water. There was a long stone platform that surrounded the edges of the fountain, slabs of grey and white where the people who came to see the swans could sit on, throw bread and other delicious foods into the water, for the swans to eat.

The fountain lake was surrounded by sparse forestry, with thick trees that enveloped the sunlight and gave off a dewy shine. On the grounds were foxes and forest animals, and on the highest treetops were large and beautiful twined nests and homes for the local wildlife.

Pigeons.

Castiel sat at the edge of the fountain, looking up through the dark trees and to the furthest and tallest tree. The nest on the tree was thick and beautiful, there were all sorts of pretty feathers and berries entwined in the nest, making it look like a jewelled treasure. There were many other nests close to it, like a community, or a large family, a flock. The Winchester’ flock. There were four large pigeons that lived in that particular encrusted nest. They were the head of the Winchester flock. There was the father, and the mother and two sons. Castiel only knew the sons names, as the oldest and youngest brothers always swooped down to help the other animals on the ground, or pick up foods or collect things for their home.

Sam Winchester, the youngest brother, but the larger one of the two. He was meek, and shy, but always ready to have fun and play with his brother. Castiel had witnessed the two playing and living, happy and healthy, stretching their shiny dark wings into the skies and swooping and whooping with their flock.

The eldest was Dean Winchester. 

Well. There was much one could say about the beautiful and strong pigeon. Beautiful was an understatement; Dean Winchester had amazing green eyes that rivalled the summer forest that surrounded their habitat home, sun-kissed skin that was smattered with dark freckles and the most beautiful ashen brown wings. They were small, much smaller than Castiel’s own, but strong.

Castiel would watch intently as Dean would swoop onto the ground after going on another wild adventure into the city. He would sit between the thick trees at the skirts of the fountain, right where Castiel could just about crouch down low enough to be completely hidden and peer at him through the pillars of the pedestal benches.

He was always in that particular place, and he would spread those beautiful wings of his, and his younger brother, Sam, would help groom his wings.

Castiel’s fingers would itch to run down those smooth looking feathers, wishing he could feel the cold between them, scent the city in their twills, feel the heat of Dean in the muscles. 

Oh how he wished he could go with them. 

But Castiel as a swan and Dean Winchester was a beautiful pigeon. Dean could stretch those wings and fly anywhere, he could see all sorts of sights of the city – _gods the whole world!_ – He could eat all kinds of delicious smelling foods and fly free!

Castiel’s fingers grasped the stone of the pedestal, wishing he could break free and just go. But he couldn’t. He was a _swan._ And swans were beautiful, majestic, unruffled and elegant. They were not like those free pigeons…

Dean was loyal, almost to a fault, when it came to his flock, his family. He was very stubborn and was avid to keep his emotions bottled up deep inside until it burst. And when it did burst, you'd better steer clear. Castiel had seen many times when Dean would fly down from his home and sit in the same spot he sat every time, staring out into the fountain, watching the waters most likely. Sometimes he’d ruffle branches and rustle leaves, or he’d pick fights with the foxes or the cats that roamed the grounds.

Castiel had watched, way too many times, where Dean had been hurt, or injured, and though he wished more than anything to leave, to help. Dean would just rustle his feathers, straighten himself out as best as he could, and fly back home.

Castiel had to hand it to him though. Dean would always do his best to defend his flock and even the swans themselves. Castiel had seen many occasions when a human would get just a little too close to his brother swans, avid to stroke and pet, or even harm and injure some. Dean would swoop in with a few of his flock and flap his wings so hard and so fast that the humans would run away.

He was a hero to Castiel.

But his older brothers Michael and Lucifer never thought so. They always tsked and reprimanded Dean for doing so, talking behind his back on how lowly, how vulgar he was. 

“We don't need a dirty pigeon near us,” Lucifer would always say, sneering as he preened Michael's white wings. “They will stain us with their vile poison,”

When Castiel was a young cygnet swanling, he had thought the same. Listening to his older brothers had brought him to hate those lower than him. And pigeons were the lowest on the totem pole. 

But...Dean Winchester was anything but low. After watching him from his fountain, Castiel had seen nothing but kindness and happiness, and a kind of love that came from a caring family. 

Once his brother Gabriel had left the fountain, hating his brothers – especially after Lucifer had almost playfully broken his wing – Castiel had no one left to talk to. Gabriel had understood his love for the pigeons, he had loved them too – in fact he had been quite smitten with the youngest Winchester, if Castiel could say anything about that. However, after a long while of staying for Castiel’s sake, Gabriel just couldn’t take it anymore, not that Castiel could blame him, and had flown off into the night sky.

He had said he’d be back, promised so. But it had been years and yet still no sign of Gabriel, and no sign of the family that Castiel desperately desired. Castiel wanted that. His life was a prison, stuck here in this beautiful fountain, not able to fly away, not _free_ , with a family that didn't understand him.

But that was why Castiel loved Dean. The freedom he saw in the pigeon, the beauty in his wings every time he landed with his family, looking so happy and unrestricted. 

Castiel couldn't keep his eyes away from the pigeon. 

And that was also why Castiel was currently leaning over the edge of the large swan fountain he called his home, his thick white wings tucked to his body, arms leaning on the thick pedestal seats that made a large, flat circle bench around the fountain. Taking a quick whiff of the air, Castiel could smell something delicious coming from deep within the nests that made the Winchester’s flock.

What he wouldn't give to be with Dean right now. 

But looking back, seeing his swan brethren watching with abject hate in their eyes. He knew it was never going to happen. 

But he wished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think so far?


	2. The Partisan but He's Got to Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all~!  
> Thanks for all the lovely comments and hits.
> 
> Just to state, the "birds" in here are considered humans with wings. So they are indeed like shifters. So Dean is Dean, except with wings, as is Castiel, except he has white wings, like a swan. They all share the same traits as their animal halves -- however, take that with a grain of salt.

“Am I in the right spot?”

Sam rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his brothers’ thick wings. Dean always spanned his wings out more than he needed to whenever they sat here, in this exact spot, every night for the past – God, Sam didn’t even know how long it had been, but it was definitely becoming a natural thing.

Gazing through the thick brush, he spied the swan with those blue eyes staring at them through the pillars surrounding Swan Lake. Well more like staring at Dean. And once again, Sam had to sit opposite his emotionally constipated older brother as he denied everything about the reason he sat at the same god damned spot.

“He can see you,” Sam stated, with a deadpanned expression on his face. There would probably be a day in the distant future where these two bird brains finally actually _spoke_ to one another, instead of just watching one another from afar.

He had spotted Dean at the top of the thickest and highest tree, looking down at the Swan Lake, watching as the blue eyed swan swum, bathing in the clear crisp water and cleaning his feathers with the chilly lake below.

Sam knew, only because he too once sat in that exact spot, staring at a whiskey eyed swan. But it had been years since he had spotted the whiskey eyed swan, and though it was quite saddening, it was just the way life was for birds.

Birds flew.

That was the end of it.

Stretching his legs out around his brothers’ back, he reached his long arms to as far as it could get to the tips of his brothers wings – there was most definitely leaves and twigs stuck in the firs. He watched as Dean’s attention was taken by the white winged man.

It wasn’t a secret that swans and pigeons did not mix. Though Sam himself had wished the same with the whiskey eyed bird, he just wished his unrequited love story was not the same for Dean. He didn’t want his brother to feel the heart ache he did.

But Dean had to get his head out of his ass and actually try to _talk_ to the swan. Or at least let the swan acknowledged that they knew he was staring, and that Dean stared right back.

“Wh-Who can see me?” Dean asked, but his hesitance and the reddening of his neck and the tip of his ears gave him away.

He wanted to tease his brother, but they had gotten so far in their relationship as brothers that they stopped pranking one another – there was no need, especially when their pranks got…violent. After Sam had accidentally broken his brother’s wing, and they had to go to Crowley of all people to fix his wing, it was then that their mother had told them to never prank one another ever again.

Teasing however…

“You’re blushing, because of a _swan?_ ” Sam asked, holding a hand to his chest for more of a shocked affect. “If mom could see you now,”

Dean grumbled, his feather fluffing up in anger. “Shut up, Sammy.”

“You should talk to him,” Sam laid a palm flat on his back; in the space between Dean’s two wings, in hopes to soothe and encourage his brother. There was nothing wrong with falling for another species – hell; everyone he knew had all sorts of bird-mates.

“Not happening,” Dean murmured, shrugging Sam’s hand off his back. “I mean…look at him…” – Sam looked back to the swan in Swan Lake, the blue eyed swan hadn’t moved a muscle from where he was watching them, but he had ducked down just a little, trying to hide himself. But it was almost impossible to hide the white wings and the equally as white skin. – “he’s a swan…and we’re…”

“Dude,” Sam flicked the back of Dean’s head, rolling his eyes. “Bobby is a pigeon and he’s mated to a raven,”

“Crowley’s an asshole,” Dean stated squarely, bringing his wings closer to his back. He got to his feet and patted away the dust and dirt on his jeans. However, his gaze was on the swan.

God, what a swan.

There was something different about him. There had been many times where Dean had come to save the swans. Humans were assholes, those sons’a’bitches loved to fuck up anything and everything that was holy about Swan Lake Park. It was a reserve for swans. Swans who liked to frolic in the lake, swans that were petty and pretentious – or dicks, as Dean liked to call them, because they were all assholes – who only flapped their wings to dry themselves off, and never even sought flight.

Except for the blue eyed one. There was something about that particular swan that reminded Dean of himself. He had watched that swan ever since his flock had come to the city and settled into a home at Swan Lake Park.

The blue eyed swan was…sad, he’d always be looking down, still and silent as he lay in the water, his feet bobbing up and down as he made his way from one end of the lake to the other. He didn’t stay with the others – the dicks – he was always on his own. Well, there had been that other, smaller swan with him, but even that swan had eighty-sixed it out of the lake – he must had realised just how fucked up his flock were.

Dean wished the blue eyed one would run away, maybe run right to Dean, and then Dean could take him in, care for him, from those stupid humans.

There was a problem with humans. They didn’t understand the whole ‘don’t hunt the swans’, it was a sport to them. He had caught so many humans trying their way into the reserve, directly at Swan Lake when the swans weren’t looking. They had almost taken the littlest one of the pack, a little dark haired swan – who loved wearing a white and red striped shirt and an equally odd and strikingly red, trilby hat. If it hadn’t been for one of the swans screaming ‘Alfie’ in the air, Dean wouldn’t have heard it.

He had darted from his home as soon as he heard the deep graveling voice screaming and screaming and screaming the name. Swooping down and beating the human to a pretty pulp of bruises and claw marks.

If you landed in Swan Lake with the intention to hurt or kill the swans, then your demise was fair game.

But Dean hadn’t gotten to the swan on time. Poor little Alfie had been traumatised. He had handed the small swan back to the others, feeling the hot blood dripping from his fingers – he could _still_ feel it sometimes – and though Alfie was still there, sitting in the middle of the lake, he was no longer the happy swan he had been when Dean had first saw him.

Dean hated himself for that. What if it had been the blue eyed swan?

“Moms calling us for dinner,” Sam said, bringing Dean out from his thoughts.

Dean nodded, taking another quick look at the pretty blue eyed swan. He stretched his wings and shot up into the air, his brother following behind as they made their way back to their home.

They didn’t notice the human slinking her way past the thick trees and bushes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuuuuun~~!


	3. Spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well well...

Charlie was a beautiful red furred cat, if she did say so herself.

She prided in her striking flame red hair, pale skin and large, pretty cat eyes. Her tail flicked behind her as she made her way through the darkness of Swan Lake Park. She was part of the Winchester flock – _who knew, a cat willingly family with a bunch of pigeons_ , but they had been welcoming of her when she had been abandoned by her own family and needed help, and Dean Winchester was only happy to help a fellow animal in need.

She prowled the grounds on the lookout, as it was her turn to do so tonight, keeping the swans safe. That was one of the things the swans and the animals in Swan Lake Park had. John Winchester had spoken to the head swan Chuck, and they had created a treaty. The animals could live in the reserve of Swan Lake Park, in return for their protection.

It was quite a cool deal. Charlie was able to live in basically what was considered paradise, and all she had to do was make sure no pesky outsiders ventured in and hurt the swans. She was currently wondering around the outskirts of the lake. Benny the bear had the eastern side of the large park, and Bobby the pigeon had taken to the western side.

The trees around her were still…a little too still.

On alert, she gazed up at the waning moon, and down to the swans, seeing them all sleeping soundly, heads tucked under their wings in one end of the lake. Their nests were very extravagant, made of all sorts of soft and twined looking things that sparkled in the moonlight. They were safe right now, but Charlie was still on high alert.

It was just _too still_ tonight. And that never meant good news. She had spotted Bobby up above her a while back, and he’d be circling back soon. So maybe, he’d see something. However, she hadn’t expected someone coming from right behind her.

Her pointed ears flicked at a sound of something heavy rustling just behind her. Turning, she saw a big black blob slowly making its way to the glittering waters of Swan Lake.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said to herself as she slunk down low. Her body hidden under the grass and brambles in the place she called home. She prowled her way to the large blob. As she got closer, she saw the large blob focus out more into three tall and slightly intimidating figures.

_Humans!_

Damn it, she hadn’t expected an ambush or a kidnapping attempt by humans! She was only a cat; she wouldn’t be able to take on three humans! If only Benny was with her, he was big and scary looking, though his personality was anything but. Humans were scared of bears. They’d probably see her and want to pet her – which, sometimes it was nice when it was that pretty dark haired woman that came here all the time, but Charlie wasn’t sure what she could do right now.

She couldn’t fight!

Looking up into the trees, she didn’t see any lights on in the Winchester flock, it was well past midnight. She couldn’t call the flock without alerting the figures to herself, and if they found her, then she’d not be able to call out or save the swans.

But she had to try and do _something._

The three figures were slowly approaching the edge of the lakebed, the female at the very front, most likely the leader of the three, had her hair up in a tight bun. She knelt up onto the stone platform, seeing a swan laying, sleeping in at the edge.

_Why was that swan not with his family?_

Swans always slept in a large pile, which helped keep them warm in the winter months or when the night was particularly cold. But this swan was all by himself at the edge, scruffy dark hair tucked under his wings, legs curled into his chest as he floated in a makeshift – poorly made, if Charlie got a good look – nest of twigs, leaves and firs.

The female human was close now, reaching out for the swan. She motioned for the two large male humans, and they followed after her. Slowly, ever so slowly, they both dipped their feet into the lakebed, so they were standing on either side of the swan, while the female hovered over him.

How the swan didn’t hear, Charlie didn’t know. She would have expected the other swans at the other side of the lake to have heard the commotion, but they had barely moved an inch.  Charlie knew she had to do something. She was the only one who could help right now.

Pressing her chest to the ground and bending her legs under her body, she let out a fierce growl and vaulted up, pushing her feet on the ground to gain height and momentum. She barrelled into the female human, her shoulder hitting the human’s back and pushing her deeper into the lake. The two male humans were on Charlie like a shot, they took hold of her by the scruff of her neck and her tail, yanking her hair back and throwing her to the treeline.

The swan was startled awake at the sudden sound and ripples of water lapping its face. With a frightened honk, he stretched out his wings, ready to fight whatever had come up. But he wasn’t fast enough. The three humans were on him like a shot.

Charlie had hit the tree with a thwack. Her back ached as she slumped to the ground, the pain inebriating her for a moment. But the sound of the swan yelping and cawing in pain made her quickly get up.

Looking at the lake, she saw the two male humans had a tight grasp on the swan, one holding onto its arms, lifting him up from the water, his other hand wrapped around the swans mouth, stopping him from screaming and alerting the others. The other male human had a tight grip on his wings, rendering the swan immobile.

_Oh no…_

The female human had gotten out of the lake, dripping wet, her hair had fallen out of its neat bun and was stuck to her face. Her eyes were full of rage. She pointed at the two men and said something, something Charlie couldn’t hear, but she saw the abject fear in the swan’s eyes. Quickly, the humans lifted the swan up and waded their way out of the lake, dashing into the trees.

Shit, she had to do something! She tried to get to her feet, doing her best to get closer to the humans who had kidnapped a swan, but her back screamed in pain. Dropping to the ground, she dragged her body over the muddy ground; _she had to save the swan!_

But her body protested, cold and in pain. She slumped to the ground, unable to do anything but watch as the humans dragged the swan away. Looking up at the line of nests above her, she yelled for help.

“Dean! _Dean!_ ” Her voice thankfully carried through the breeze. But she didn’t stop yelling Dean’s name until there was a familiar rustling of a nest door being opened and feathers being drawn.

“Charlie! Where are you?” Dean’s voice echoed through the darkness of the trees, and it was welcoming.

But it was too late. She should have called as soon as she had seen the humans. Because by the time Dean had dropped onto the ground before her, the human female had ordered the human male to attack the swan.

The human male that was holding onto the swan’s wings twisted his grip. There was a merciless sound of muscle squelching, followed by the distinct sound of a bone snapping. But the otherworldly, almost inhuman scream that left the swans lips – though muffled tightly by the humans – was so heart breaking.

Dean’s body tightened, standing straight, Charlie saw rage in his eyes, the kind of rage that would turn anyone mad. His wings flapped just once and he darted into the air, directly for the three.

Charlie watched in awe as Dean forced his way through the three humans, not caring what happened to him. His wings drawn tight to his back, he punched and kicked and clawed his way through the three humans until they finally ran away, beaten, bloody and frightened out of their minds.

“Stay the fuck away from _my swan!_ ” He bellowed to the humans, watching as they fled.

Dean’s shoulders fell and he looked down to the swan who had slumped onto the ground, covering his body with his wings. One was bent the wrong way, Dean noticed, and he grimaced in sympathy.

“Hey, blue eyes,” He said, kneeling down before the hidden swan. The beautiful swan he always watched from afar. Though finally his swan was here, before him, he wished it was for another reason. The twisted wing looked awful. “It’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you,”

The swan pulled back his wing, wincing in pain at the broken one and looked up at his saviour. Dean held in a breath, staring deep into those blue eyes he had been in watching for years now. The swan looked scruffy, his modest clothing scraped and torn, mud caked his hands and feet, his hair in disarray and his breathing quick and heavy.

“Dean…” his voice was gravelly, and full of so much pain, that Dean wanted to bundle him up close and keep him safe.

Blue eyes knew his name!

“I’m gonna take you back to the lake,” Dean said, reaching for the swan. But the swan’s blue eyes widened and he shook his head.

“No! Please, I can’t go back there!” He yelped, looking back at the lakebed in the distance. The humans had dragged him so far away it was hard to see the glittery water he called home.

Dean scratched the back of his head. He _should_ take the swan back – though every part of him told him to keep his blue eyed swan close to him. The swan might be bleeding, or hurt even worse. And that wing needed to be reset and looked after. The swans would be able to help, wouldn’t they?

But the swan really looked fearful of going back home.

“Alright,” he said, not knowing what else to do. “But we gotta get that wing fixed,”

The swan nodded, standing up. But he stumbled on the wet ground. Dean quickly reached for him, breaking his fall. The swans arms immediately wrapped around Dean’s body, keeping himself steady on his shaking feet.

_Oh God,_ the swan was so soft to touch, and smelled _so good_

Forcing his thoughts away, he turned to Charlie. “You okay back there?”

Charlie groaned as she scaled up the bark of the tree, but nodded. “Just need some of Ellen’s food and I’ll be as right as rain,”

Dean nodded. He heard the fluttering of familiar wings and Sam’s large, hulking body appeared behind him. “What the hell happened? You just bolted out of the nest like you were on fire!” Sam held his wings to his back, taking in the sight around him and his eyes narrowed. “You’re kidnapping swans now?”

“Humans, Sammy,” Dean answered, tightening his grip around the swan, helping him steady onto his feet once again. “They almost took blue eyes here,”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh my god! Are you okay?”

“Go check on Charlie,” Dean said, pointing a thumb at the cat, who was still slumped to the tree. “I got blue eyes,”

The swan winced as he tried to move his wing. His breathing was still a little harsh, blowing hot and heavy against Dean’s neck. Dean shivered, but reached down to lift the swan up. He had one hand under the base of the swans’ wings, and the other under his knees, pulling him close. The swan yelped, reaching up for him, wrapping his arms tighter around Dean’s neck.

“Castiel,” he said, pressing himself onto Dean. “My name isn’t blue eyes, its Castiel,”

“ _Castiel_ ,” Dean nodded, his heart thudding madly in his chest. He finally knew his blue eyed swans’ name! “We gotta get that wing looked at,”

Castiel nodded, tightening his grip around Dean. And with that, Dean spread his wings wide and flew up into the air, deep into the heart of the Winchester’s nest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our two star crossed lovers finally meet!


	4. Dance of the Guest and Dwarves

Castiel awoke to the sweet smell of meat cooking in something delicious. Castiel had never had meat before; being a swan he had been rationed on only breads, fruits and vegetables. Meat was considered ‘disgusting’ by his family, though Castiel had always enjoyed taking in the scents of cooked meat from the Winchester’s flock.

Wait…

Where was he?

His eyes felt groggy, heavy, as if the idea of opening them was too much work. So he focused on his other senses. He was laying down on something exquisitely soft and warm, that smelled of cherries and something…something Castiel could not place, but it was lovely. The same soft scented thing was weighted over his body too.

He was on a bed…and it was nothing like his own in the lake. Whatever this was, it was different than he was used to. Whereas the water would sway below him, guarding him and keeping him alert from predators, the entire bed he was resting on seemed to sway, as if he were aloft and the breeze was brushing past the room he was in.

Curious, he forced his lazy eyes to open and saw twined and twirled branches and twigs above him, intricately and sturdily weaved together to create the dome shaped room he was currently in. Looking around, he saw there was a desk, with a chair, and an odd looking bulb of light just above him.

Pigeon territory. He was on pigeon territory!

_Wow…_

Pushing the warm covers from his body, he tried to get up, but his back suddenly stung in pain. Looking back, he saw one of his white wings was strapped and wrapped in gauze, tied tight to his back. Wha—

That was when his thoughts returned to last night. He had almost been abducted, taken by those humans that had sneaked into the reserve. His wing had been broken by one of them. If it hadn’t been for the red furred cat and Dean…

Dean.

Had _Dean_ taken him in? Or was this a human territory?

Shaking at the thought of maybe being captured and taken by the humans – he had heard so many stories about what humans did to swans – he forced his body out of the bed. His bare feet hit the plush floor, feet sinking into the leafy lush. But he didn’t look around anymore than he wanted to; he needed to get out of here. Or at least find out which pigeon flock had taken him in.

He prayed it was the Winchester’s…

He found the door, a little arch in the wall with a bark like wood covering it for privacy, and he pulled it open. He was brought out into a hallway that led down a flight of stairs. He couldn’t hear anyone or anything moving, so he continued down the hallway and the stairs.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was greeted by the sight of a beautiful blonde female pigeon. She was placing food filled plates down on a wide bark wood table. She looked up at him, a little startled, but smiled brightly.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice like a song as she spoke. She reached a hand out to him, ushering him to the plush of the dining chairs. “How are you feeling?”

Castiel wasn’t sure what to do. Frightened at the prospect of what this woman – who barely looked like she could cause any problems or be violent in any way – wanted from him. He slowly walked down the steps. She took his arm and pretty much pushed him down onto the chair. A plate of delicious looking food was placed before him.

“Is that…meat?” He asked, looking down at the golden baked piece of meat surrounded by soft mashed potatoes and something else that Castiel hadn’t ever seen before.

The blonde pigeon paused, holding the corners of the plate. “Is that okay?”

Castiel nodded enthusiastically, taking the plate and pulling it closer to him. He picked up a fork and dug in. The taste of the meat burst in his mouth, the flavour was delicious and he let out a little moan.

The female pigeon giggled, watching him eat. “I’m glad you like it,”

Castiel swallowed the delicious food and placed his utensils on the table. Holding his hands to his lap, his uninjured wing resting close to his back, he looked up at the blonde woman and politely introduced himself.

“Thank you for your hospitality, and for bandaging me up,” he said, motioning to his injured wing, “My name is Castiel Novak of Swan Lake.”

“Mary Winchester,” She replied, shaking her head, surprised at the politeness. “You’re welcome, but Dean wrapped you up.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. Dean Winchester wrapped him up? Dean Winchester had not only saved him from the humans, but he had brought him to his nest and helped him. Castiel’s fingers ran to the white gauze on his wing, he ran his fingers down it, trying to imagine just how Dean must have looked, how he must have cared for him.

“Castiel?” Mary broke through his thoughts, tapping him lightly on his arm.

Castiel jumped at how close she was, but shook his head to tell her he was okay. He picked up his fork and continued eating the, absolutely delicious, food. Mary settled down opposite him, chirping for the others to come down.

Castiel’s heart beat madly in his chest when she called Dean’s name. He was finally going to see Dean! He was finally going to be close to the man he had been watching all these years.

A few moments passed and Dean and Sam walked into the room from the entrance of the house, looking a little worse for wear, hair ruffled and clothes in slight disarray.

“Borders clear, mum, no humans in sight,” Dean said, taking off his shoes and entering the house. He paused when he saw Castiel sitting on his seat at the table.

“Make sure Benny does a sweep in a few hours,” Mary said, though her eyes were teasingly watching her eldest son and the swan.

They weren’t being very inconspicuous, what with the fact that they hadn’t stopped staring at one another ever since Dean entered the house.

“Will do mum,” Sam answered for Dean, pushing the pigeon deeper into the room. Dean’s wings ruffled behind him, but he forced them straight down.

“Glad to see you’re up,” He said to the swan, scratching the back of his head.

“Thank you for everything,” Castiel relied in a murmur.  He looked down to the table, unsure of what to do or say. What else _could_ he say?

Dean shrugged his shoulders, taking the seat next to the swan. “It’s what we do; we gotta protect the swans,”

And Castiel had a moment of hesitation. Had Dean only saved him because he was a swan, or had he gone feral because it was _Castiel_ that was in trouble? Would he have done the same if it were any of the other swans?

Castiel remembered the heat in his eyes when he saw the humans hurting him, the absolute fury that screamed through him. Even he himself had been frightened for a moment. But would Dean act the same if it were anyone else?

Castiel really wished it was because of him, but he had to be realistic.

A stupid lonely swan and a magnificent pigeon…?

It was not likely.


	5. OP.20 Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's not dead!  
> Neither has she forgotten about her pigeon and swan!  
> Just...its gotten busy lately. So...sorry.

Dean sat on the dining table opposite the beautiful blue eyed swan – no, _Castiel_ , his name was Castiel – his feathers quivered on his back, fluttering with his nerves. His fingers were trembling with joyous anticipation as he cut through the meat on his plate.

_He was here_! The swan he had been watching for such a long time was in his home, sitting so close and smelling so sweet. What was it about this scruffy, deep voiced, rumple haired swan that made Dean’s mind turn to complete mush? Castiel was smartly dressed in a pale white toga like dress, which showed off his skin slightly tanned from the beating sun. The dress barely hid anything with how large it was – most likely a hand me down from the other bigger swans, Castiel was heavenly svelte, all thin and tall, though shorter than Dean, and graceful, like a swan should be. And those eyes, they swallowed the afternoon sky; that was for sure.

Beautiful.

John cleared his throat, breaking Dean out of his thoughts. He turned to see his father stare at him, giving him _that_ look. Dean’s cheeks tinged a slight pink at the thought that he had been caught staring. But he couldn’t help himself. Blue eye— _Castiel_ looked so pretty, so innocent, and so very lost as he sat on their table, those gorgeous eyes darting this way and that.

Dean had been watching Castiel for such a long time; he knew every single nuance the swan could possibly have. From the way he fluttered his wings, to the way he batted those impossibly long eyelashes – they kissed the apple of his cheeks, hiding his eyes from Dean’s view as he looked down to his plate.

Dean knew he had fallen hard for this swan. Ever since he had first seen the beautiful swan swimming lazily in the crystal blue lake. But he also knew that this kind of union was impossible.

After all, a beautiful swan and a low life pigeon? He knew he was at the bottom of the totem pole, barely above the dirt on the ground. But his kind was the ones that kept everyone else aloft, they were the ones who protected and cared for the swans, made sure they were safe and happy.

He hated the fact that Castiel had been hurt, looking back at the bandaged wing that was tucked at Castiel’s back made his heart ache. If only he had been the one on patrol, if only he hadn’t gone gallivanting off into the city, getting food for the flock. He wouldn’t have been tired; his wings wouldn’t have been so ruffled that they needed to be groomed. And maybe, maybe he could have made it so those humans never even got close to his Castiel.

Charlie had done a good job caring them away. A cat with three bulky humans, that was amazing. But she had also gotten hurt – thankfully not by much; she had bunked with Ellen that night, getting treated by her.

Dean should have gotten there sooner…

“Dean, honey, you’re staring, again,” Mary said nonchalantly, as she placed her food filled fork into her mouth.

Castiel’s eyes darted up at his name, and Dean’s cheeks burst a bright pink. He really needed to get a hold of himself. What if Castiel found out? He’d be so repulsed, and then he’d probably move to the other side of the lake, with the other swans, and Dean would never get a chance to look at him again.

This was all going wrong.

But…Dean thought to himself. He had Castiel now. The swan didn’t want to go home, and with his injury, there wasn’t anywhere else he could go either. With that happy thought in mind, he quickly finished his food.

“Why don’t you take Castiel back up to his room,” John stated, motioning to Dean and the swan.

Castiel placed his cutlery on his empty plate, getting up to take it to the kitchen area, but Mary was faster. She took the plate from him and motioned for him to follow Dean back to the rooms. Castiel nodded and, with a slight wince, he got up from the table and followed Dean’s back all the way to the upper levels of the large nest.

 

~~

 

There was definitely nothing ‘nest-like’ about this place. Castiel had been told countless stories by his brothers and sisters about how the pigeons lived in squalor, sleeping in twigs and sharp branches, only having leaves to keep them warm. But this home was nothing like that. It was a solid structure, for one, and it had multiple layers. All of the rooms he had been in so far were warm and welcoming, there were plush pillows, art decorating the walls, and even a few of those magical bulbs of light dotted around the place, illuminating the twisting corridors of the home.

He followed Dean until they returned back to the room he had woken up in. He could scent remnants of Dean within the walls themselves, and it was strongest in the room.

“Do you need…I mean you always bathe…every night…ah…” Dean was flustered, and honestly Castiel didn’t know why. What was this gorgeous pigeon trying to ask? He watched as Dean took in a deep breath and let it all out in one go. “Would you like to take a bath with me?”

A smile spread on Castiel’s lips, Dean had been so flustered. It was adorable. He shrugged his shoulders, it was true he took to the water and groomed his wings before he set off into his solitary nest for rest. But the bandage on his wing may make it difficult.

As if seeing his turbulent thoughts, Dean said quickly; “You need to reapply the bandage to your wing, I can help with that,”

Was Dean really asking if it was possible for him to bathe together? To groom his wings?

Grooming another’s wings was a very intimate act, usually done between family members or mated pairs. However, the thought of those thick and warm fingers combing through his feathers was a refreshing, if not pleasing, thought.

He nodded, knowing it was probably going to turn completely over his head. After all, Dean was probably considering this to be something close to a doctor patient relationship. Castiel was only here because he had demanded not to go home; he was the one who had forced Dean to take him to his home.

But, he couldn’t get the thought of those hands on him out of his mind. So he agreed. He wanted Dean to help him, to reapply the bandages, to groom his wings.  With a quick and hopefully not too eager nod, he reached for Dean’s outstretched hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI - bath time may not insinuate sexy times.  
> Or maybe it will...


	6. Are You Swimming in her Pools?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> Sorry its slow going, life has piled up around me, and thought I adore this fic, other things have become more of a priority (gasp, I know right?)  
> I'll update when I can.
> 
> Bath time is a communal bird thing. So its not like they're going to strip and do the whole...well, okay not yet.

The bath area in the Winchester Nest was nothing to speak lowly of. The bath itself was a ceramic circle, like a bowl – which surprised Castiel, as he was unsure how such a structure would stay up and stable on a treetop nest – and filled to the brim with water. There were steps circled around it, and a flat pedestal like place just at the surface on the opposite for birds to lounge and groom wings.

This was all just the Winchesters?

…wow.

Dean shrugged off his shirt, leaving only his undershirt on. His beautiful wings tucked behind him, a little ruffled from taking his shirt off. He systematically pulled off his belt but paused as his fingers lingered on the button of his jeans. His fantastical green gaze rose up to look straight at Castiel.

The swan burst into a bright red at the sight before him. Dean in just a shirt and opened jeans. This was definitely something he was going to burn to his memory so he could come back to it when he was feeling lonely at night.

Because Dean was beautiful. And though he may not have had any worries about his physique, Castiel most definitely did. His usual swan-like courage was shattered in front of a pigeon – beautiful or not, Castiel suddenly felt self-conscious around Dean.

He wanted to hide himself in his wings, like he usually did, but a painful gasp escaped his lips when he moved his wings. Ah yes, injured.

Dean, noticing his sudden ache, was straight to his side, reaching up to run his fingers in a light stroke over the injured wing. Castiel had thought he’d probably flinch at the touch, but he found he actually liked Dean touching him.

Odd.

“You alright?” Dean asked, ushering Castiel closer to the pool of water.

Castiel nodded, unsure if he would be able to speak right now. His skin was a faint red in his embarrassment, and he was finding it hard to breathe. There was something about this pigeon, this beautiful green eyed avian, that made Castiel wanted to just stare at him. Maybe run his fingers through Dean’s feathers, and pick a few off so he could place it in his own nest.

“Shall we get started?” Dean asked, breaking Castiel from his thoughts.

Castiel nodded, knowing he should probably take a bath. His body was caked with mud, and his wings were starting to itch and burn a little at the ache. Dean sucked in a breath, and took Castiel’s hand in his own. He stepped into the water, his jeans soaking up the water. He stood there, on the bottom step of the pool, holding his hand out to the swan, allowing Castiel ample enough time to reconsider if he wanted to.

Castiel honestly didn’t want to be anywhere else.

The air around him was warm, his breathing was heavy and his heart was thudding madly in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way. His mind was corrupted by the ideologies his brothers had drilled into him. Gabriel had been the only swan who understood his fascination with the pigeons. But ever since Gabriel had flown away – saying he would return, though he had still yet to come back – Castiel would spend his entire time staring up at the massive nest in the canopies, watching as the pigeons roamed all over the place.

He didn’t pay attention to his own flock; they were all assbutts who didn’t see rhyme or reason. The Winchester’s had the right idea. They were friendly with everyone in the Park, including cats, dogs, bears and ravens. From what Castiel had noticed, everyone was part of a family there, and even though the red headed cat roamed the grounds – who should have been a predator to the birds – she was a nice feline. There was always a smile on her face. She didn’t look like the predator his brothers had sought her out to be.

In fact, none of them did.

It was such a fresh way to think of things. And Castiel wished he could be part of this flock, where species didn’t matter. He had always wanted to spread his wings and fly up to the Winchester flock, and see what the big deal was about. And now, here he was, in the very centre of the nest, with a barely dressed Dean Winchester, about to take a bath.

He shivered.

Dean Winchester…a pigeon… was doing this to him. He was making Castiel question every little thing he had been taught as a swanling. But he didn’t care, he wanted this…he had been watching Dean ever since the pigeon and his flock had arrived at Swan Lake Park, and he wanted him ever since.

So he didn’t hesitate for a moment when Dean tugged him into the water. Though he was nervous – his heart was jack rabbiting in his chest – he didn’t let that stop him.

The moonlight glinting off the rippling surface was actually more inviting than it should have been. The water was warm as it pooled around him, soaking into his skirts. Dean’s hand in his was a welcoming feeling, one he revelled in.

He could do this. It was just a bath. Birds did it all the time.

“Is the water okay?” Dean asked, his grip tightening on Castiel’s hand. “I know you’re used to the cold lake water,”

Castiel shook his head. It was true he was used to the cold water he called his home, but _this_ was something else entirely. The heat was pleasant, seeping into his skin and loosening muscles he hadn’t known were cramped. He breathed in the misty scent of leaves and…what was that fruity scent? It was coming from the water.

“Yeah, we add berries to the water,” Dean said, seeing him look at the water questioningly, sniffing the air like the swan he was. “It’s soothing and refreshing,”

Castiel nodded, letting the warm water seep through his fingers as he waded along, deeper into the very centre of the pool. The water was rising higher and higher as they went in deeper and deeper, and it was only when they were about shoulder height from the water that Castiel let out a long breath, letting the water take him over.

He ducked his head into the warm water, getting his hair wet. Breaking the surface, he watched Dean do the same, and his breath caught in his throat. He didn’t think Dean could _look_ any more beautiful. But with the water falling like droplets from his hair and eyelashes, the heat of the water turning his cheeks pink, and his smile bright, Castiel couldn’t help himself.

_Dean had freckles!_

“Wanna take another dip?” Dean asked, reaching out to the swan. He had found a soft woollen material, a wet cloth of sorts, and handed it to Castiel.

The swan had never seen this kind of thing before. And he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to use it for. The swans had no need for material such as this. But then again, the swans never ventured out of the Lake.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Castiel. “It’s clean,”

Castiel’s eyes widened. Dean thought he wasn’t taking it because he thought it was _dirty?_ He reached for it and held it in his hands. The material was soft even when wet and it felt nice on his skin. But what was he supposed to use this for?

He remembered seeing those human’s running in maddening circles around his Lake, they usually had this kind of material around their necks. Was that what this was for? Not wanting to seem rude, he rolled the material in a long tube shape and wrapped it around his neck, letting the two ends hang to his collarbone.

The bemused look on Dean’s face told him he was definitely not doing this right. The deep chuckle that Dean let out would forever be etched into Castiel’s mind – alongside the beauty of a wet Dean Winchester, with his drooping wings and shining green eyes, and the shirt that billowed in the water…what was he talking about?

Dean reached for the cloth and slid it from around Castiel’s neck, unravelling it and holding it out in front of him.

“Give me your hand,” He instructed, Castiel did as he was told, raising his arm up from the water and out to Dean.

The pigeon took a loose grasp around his wrist and dunked the material into the water. Bringing it out, he ran the warm and wet cloth over his skin, taking off the caked on mud and blood. He stroked methodically, as if he was used to doing this, before dunking the cloth back in the water and continuing. Castiel watched, in anticipation for the cloth to return on his skin. It was a pleasant feeling, one that made goose bumps rise up and along his arm, the warm grip on his wrist making him warm.

The water, surprisingly did not turn a murky colour when Dean dipped the cloth in, and Castiel had the right mind to ask him what magic this was, but Dean took his other hand and continued his ministrations.

Castiel felt himself fall into a rhythm, his eyes drooping as he relaxed. He didn’t expect a bath to feel so warm, or so relaxing. The scent of the berries in the steamy air was heady, but it was nothing compared to the scent of the pigeon before him.

He would regret what he did next tomorrow morning, but right now, looking down at the beautiful pigeon that was cleaning him, his eyes bright, lashes and hair damp, as he concentrated on getting each and every stain on Castiel’s skin off.

The swan ducked down to that inviting face, to those welcoming lips, and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cas-ti-el...well, you take what you want, don't you honey?


	7. A New Swan Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> So, its been a while.  
> I will be attempting NaNoWriMo again this year (the National Novel Writing Month), and that starts in November, so I will try my best to finish this fic by Halloween (God help me)  
> Wish me luck, and I hope you like where this fic goes!

Lightning.

A zing of lightning ricochet all over his body, starting from those oh so soft lips pressed hesitantly on his, quivering in their own nervousness. Shivers shook through Dean, all the way from the sole of his feet to the twill in his tawny wings. He was submerged in heat, the kind that made his heart thud madly in his chest. His wings moved of their own accord, instinctively curving forward, towering over them both and curving delicately over the swan.

His feathers merged with Castiel's pure white wings, feathers and twill meshing together and creating another spark to rush through his body. His fingers itched to reach out, to touch those wings, to feel him, to take. But he reprimanded himself, he stilled, only because the scant taste of the swan before him tasted so soft and warm, that he was completely floored.

Almost as quickly as the sweet kiss had come to him, it had disappeared, leaving only a tingle in his lips at its wake.

Damn...that was _some kiss_.

He gazed down at the swan, seeing Castiel's eyes were still closed, his lips were slightly reddened, and his cheeks were a ruddy pink.  He slowly opened his eyes, and Dean was floored by the beauty hiding in those deep blues. They shone with such reverence that it almost brought Dean to his knees.

Wow.

But those eyes widened, and fear shuttered over the blue, darkening it. His lips made a wide 'o' shape as he gasped, and Dean wished to reach back down and kiss him again.

"I'm sorry," Castiel said quickly, stepping back from the pigeon. "I shouldn't have,"

But Dean didn't let him get very far. Unconsciously, he reached forward, wrapping a hand around Castiel's arm, tugging him back to where he was before. Their wings brushed against one another again, and Dean felt that zing run through him again.

"Don't be," he murmured, noticing Castiel was breathing just as heavily as he was.

The steam coming off the warm water made Castiel's lashes thick and wet and his eyes brighter and moist. His lips were trembling, in fear? Dean wasn't sure, but he wanted to kiss that feeling away again. Now that he had a taste of the swan, he wanted more.

Instead, he stepped back himself, taking Castiel with him.

"Let me fix your wing," he stated slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. The heat swirling around them, creating a beautiful bubble of warmth and lust around them.

Castiel nodded, unable to do anything else buy comply. He had wanted this, he needed this. After watch Dean all those years, itching to feel those hands against his, that mouth on his own. He had finally done something about it.

And Dean wasn't freaked out; he wasn't running scared or pushing him away. No, Dean was calling out to him. Their wings were still meshed together, and Castiel felt the lightning like heat rush through him. He wished his other wing was not injured, that he could curl his larger wings around them both.

What were they doing?

Dean pulled Castiel to the edge of the pool, placing his strong hands around the swans' waist, making Castiel gasp, and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing. He placed Castiel down on the curved seat within the bowl, and got out of the pool himself.

Castiel watched, enthralled, as Dean shook his hair, letting drops of water spray around him. He still had water droplets running down his face, over the curve of his cheek, down to the corner of his lips. And he shivered at the memory of those lips against his.

Dean smirked, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Castiel, and settled behind the swan. Sitting down, cross legged, behind Castiel, he reached a tentative hand to the swans' uninjured wing, allowing Castiel to adapt to his touch.

Castiel felt the heat of those fingers on his feathers, and his wing stretched to accommodate the pigeon, wanting more of his touch. Again, Castiel wished his wing was not broken; otherwise he would have spread his wings for Dean to see, for him to admire.

It was such a swan thing to do, to show his wings to his potential mate, to show how powerful and yet how beautiful he could be.

His wing puffed up as Dean's fingers dug delicately into his wing, a low moan escaped his lips without his permission. Because that felt... _good_. It felt really good, and he urged Dean to continue.

After watching the pigeon for so long, finally having his fingers in his wings was amazing, it felt hot, and humid, his breath was coming out in short gasping pants, and yet all he wanted was more.

"Cas? You alright?" Dean asked, his fingers carding through the quills, the rough calluses from being a gorgeous and wild pigeon, one that would soar the world, made Castiel want to moan.

"I'm fine," he breathed instead, his voice not listening to reason.

Dean nodded, and Castiel could feel the smile on his face as he moved his fingers in that maddening pace.

_Please don't stop._

Dean moved slowly, unravelling the bandages from around Castiel's injury. The wings had been set while the Swan had been unconscious, and Castiel was glad for that. He didn't think he could stomach the pain of relocating a wing right now.

"I got some medication," Dean said, his voice low as he spoke. "It'll help,"

Castiel nodded, but gasped at the cool salve Dean soothed into his wing. The cool feeling spread around the injury, numbing the pain and ache. Dean was quick to dry and soothe Castiel's wing, as if he were used to it, and Castiel didn't put it past him and his experience. Dean wrapped a soft and thick bandage around his wing. Once he was done, he continued to run his fingers down the twill, fixing and grooming the wings.

"Don't stop," Castiel murmured, dropping his head forward and letting those fingers create enticing sparks along his back.

Dean hesitated, for just a moment, as if questioning what was happening. They barely knew each other, sure they had been watching one another for years now. He'd been pining for the swan, silent in his approach. But he had never expected this, this heat, this tension.

And he definitely had never expected that kiss.

He wanted to kiss Castiel again.

Unwarranted to his own body, he leaned down, and his lips pressed to the base of Caster's neck, sucking on the moisture there.

He just couldn't get enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of...lust in the air...


	8. Nina's Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They just can't get enough of each other.

Don't touch the swan more than you have to, Winchester.

Dean forced himself to back away from the pliant,  _why was he so pliant,_ swan in front of him. His gaze running down to the small, reddening mark he had created on the back of Castiel's neck, it was barely noticeable, and a sick part of Dean knew he could do better if he had the permission to.

_Fuck..._ what was he doing?

The wispy mist of the wet steam around them circled around the two, seeping into their muscles, their wings, moistening their skin until a sheen of wet lay on their bodies. Drops of water slowly dripping down over exposed skin, only to splash quietly into the still pool of berry scented water below them.

How long had they been here? Just sitting, pressed together, Dean's fingers on Castiel's puffed up, white wings, lips pressed, ever so gently now, at the base of his neck. It felt like just a moment as electricity rushed through him, making him dizzy with the sweet and clean scent of the swan before him.

How was this possible? He must have been dreaming, having this beauty, the one he had pretty much been stalking and watching for the past few years, in his arms. He backed away, just as quickly as he had come, slipping his fingers slowly out of the plumes and twill of Castiel's wings. Though he has hesitant to do so.

_Castiel_ _was so pliant._

And that reddening mark was maddening, it looked just like a mating mark. And Dean had to curse himself at losing his control around the swan.

The familiar sound of heavy footsteps, and wing tips brushing against the walls brought Dean back to reality. He quickly got up from behind Castiel, feeling an ache in his body when doing so. He forced himself to walk over to the edge of the room, where there was a cupboard full of soft, dry towels. He picked the largest one they had and quickly made his way back to the swan.

The bath room was warm, with the humid heat and the hot water, however the rest of the house was quite cool, and he knew Castiel would feel the chill. He was about to hand the swan the towel, but remembered what had happened with the wash cloth, and instead chose to hold his hand out, helping Castiel to his feet. The swan stood, standing before, gazing at him with a look of trust and confusion.

Dean forced his thoughts away from that. He looked so submissive, so lost, wanting attention, wanting care, wanting someone else to control him. Dean knew Castiel wanted to be free, wanted to get away from the swans. After all, he was  _here,_ instead of back home. Castiel always stayed away from the rest of the swans, like an outcast. And Dean knew why.

He saw just how intrigued Castiel had been about everything around him, how eager he was to learn newer ways of doing things, of cultures that were different to his own. It was why he was here.

But it didn't explain why he was so trusting of  _him._ Why was Castiel letting him do this? A human had broken his wing, and Dean could just as easily complete the job and break it clean off – not that he ever would. 

But no, the swan trusted him.  _Him,_ a pigeon. Dean felt a little honoured at that, he also felt smug. Out of all of the pigeons here, Castiel had been watching  _him_ at the dinner table, Castiel had allowed  _him_ touch his broken and injured wings. Castiel wanted  _him_ to bathe him, to take care of him when he was like this.

_Castiel_ _trusted him._

Dean unfolded the towel and held it out behind the swan, he was careful of the freshly bandaged wing. Running the towel over his body, he quickly, yet methodically, dried the swan. He saw the material of his toga like dress, the same that every swan wore, was soaked straight through, and though he himself was also wet, he wanted Castiel dry first. The swan wasn't used to a dry cold that came with the whistling wind in their nest, he was used to the damp cold that came with the cold water in the lake.

Cas could catch a cold. And that wouldn't do well with his injury too.

He crouched down to the ground, taking the towel with him, and dried Castiel's bare legs, all the way up to his knees – he wanted to go higher, to touch where he knew he probably would never be allowed – especially not now.

Dean looked up then, as if asking for permission, but the reverent look on Castiel's eyes made his breath catch in his throat. Those eyes were going to kill him, Dean was sure. His fingers crept up, ever so slowly, under Castiel's skirts, rough fingers running hesitantly along smooth,  _so smooth,_ skin. His thighs were hot, muscular and  _fuck so smooth._ His blue eyes were wide, and his mouth was open a little, letting gasping breaths escape. 

But he wasn't stopping Dean, he didn't look scared or afraid.  _He looked like he wanted more._

"Is everything alright in there?" Sam's voice echoed from the doorway.

Like the annoying, cock blocking pigeon he was, Dean had to hand it to his little brother and his awful timing. Because if Sam hadn't appeared then, Dean didn't know what would have happened. But he knew he wouldn't have left the swan wanting.

He cleared his throat and stood up, darting his gaze away from the disappointed look on the swan. "Yeah," he called out, his voice gruff. "Sammy, could you get us two pairs of clothes,"

The taller pigeon grumbled an 'okay' and left, leaving the sound of heavy footsteps and wing tips brushing against the walls, in his wake.

Dean continued, but now he was a bit more clinical in his work. He wrapped the towel around Castiel's body, hiding the enticing view of a wet, and  _pliant_ swan before him. But even in the towel, his skin was beautiful, tanned from the sunlight, and glowing from the moonlight. His skin was unblemished, no mars or marks on him at all, and Dean wanted to change that. He wanted to mark Castiel, to leave bruises, bite marks and hickies all over his body. He wanted Castiel's skin to be reddened ruddy with his love.

Dean forced himself to back away, he reached for another towel and wrapped it around his body, running it roughly through his wet hair.

_Don't touch the swan more than you have to, Winchester._

Sam appeared a moment later, knocking on the door. A moment later, he opened the door and walked in, holding two sets of clothes in his hands. Dean had noticed they were both his own clothing, and narrowed his eyes.

Sam just smirked, knowing the idea of Castiel wearing Dean's clothing would tempt Dean a little too much with the swan. It was the same intention as giving Castiel one of his feathers. It was a mating thing, one of intent to mate.

"Thank you," Castiel said, his voice a little breathless and heavy. He took the clothing from Sam, pressing it to his nose and taking in the scent. His cheeks tinged a little pink at the familiar scent, and he was quick to hold the clothing as close to himself as possible without getting them wet with his own clothing.

"We'll leave you to it," Dean said, hooking his arm around Sam's hulking body, before the tall pigeon had a chance to comment on anything. He dragged Sam out of the bath room, and into the hallway.

Once the door was closed behind them, Dean pressed his body back to the wall, steadying his breathing and forcing the jackrabbit heart beat to a more normal beating.

"What happened in there?" Sam asked, watching his brother, seeing the blush of red, and the wide and fear filled eyes.

Dean ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, tasting the salty and stormy sweetness that made Castiel so wonderful, on his tongue, and he groaned, confessing his crime -- because that was what it was. "I almost marked him,"

Sam's eyes widened, he looked back to the closed door, hearing the sounds of Castiel getting changed inside. His complicated gaze darkened as it darted back to Dean, seeing his brother in such turmoil.

"Dean..." He said slowly, treading carefully.

_"_ _Almost,_ _"_ Dean repeated, shaking his head. "I was so close, and he didn't fight back,"

Sam hummed. "Do you think he wants you to mark him?"

"A swan and a  _pigeon?_ " He growled, hands clenching into fists at his side. He dropped his head back against the wall, forcing the thoughts of a family with the swan, of mating with the swan, back in his mind. Because no matter how beautiful that looked like, he knew it wasn't possible. What would a beautiful, heavenly swan want to do with a dirty pigeon like him? "He won't be able to go back home and then he'd hate me,"

Sam hummed again, and that sound was starting to get on Dean's nerves. But what he said next, floored Dean. Because he had definitely thought the same thing."Maybe he doesn't want to,"

_Maybe he didn't..._


	9. Waltz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...uhm....  
>  Sorry for the late update?

"I'm gonna ask him to be my mate," Dean had told his brother, before walking into his room and getting out of the wet clothes. The scent of Castiel still burning on his tongue. 

Dean knew he had left his brother flabbergasted, worried for his mental health. After all you couldn't just outright say something like that. There were traditions to uphold, rituals to be met.

But it had to start with consent of both parties. And that meant Dean had to ask him, he had to atleast _show_ his intent for Castiel, to properly court him as pigeons did. 

Because Dean knew it from the moment he had first laid eyes on the gorgeous blue eyed swan. He knew he wanted the swan to be his mate.

Forever.

He was adamant this time right now was a sign. After watching Castiel for so long, secretly catching glimpses of his beauty through trees and pillars. To right now. Finally having Castiel here, in his home, on his bed. And not because Dean had forced him here because Castiel _wanted_ to be here. What else could it mean?

He didn't really know how to start asking. Should he be subtle and ease into his confession? Should he just blurt out what he wanted to say? What would Castiel respond best to?

God, that swan was messing with his mind. He needed to take a step back and think.

But even though he knew better. Dean was finding it really hard to stay way from Castiel. The swan was so beautiful, a little dense with the ways of the world, but his gorgeous blue eyes were always so bright when he learned something new.

Swans never got out that much, it seemed. And Castiel looked like the kind of bird who would do well with the worlds wind under his pretty wings. Well, once he was healed, Dean was eager to take him out to see the town outside of Swan Lake Park, and maybe, if Castiel said yes, maybe Dean could even show him the whole world.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to actually ask Castiel first.

And that was why he was here, standing in front of his bedroom door, holding a tray in his hands, on it a covered plate of his mother's famous all ailments healing vegetable soup, and all sorts of fresh fruits and berries, and some medication for the swan.

With Castiel's injury, the swan was stuck in bed for most of the time he'd been here. Dean was more than happy to bring food up to him, to change his bandages when they needed to be, and to run his fingers through those soft, pliant wings when they needed grooming - with was more often than Dean thought it would be. Swans really did groom their wings a lot or maybe that was just Castiel.

He had first thought Castiel wanted his wings to be groomed so much because it was _Dean_ doing the grooming. But....well he wasn't sure. Swans probably just liked stating clean and well kept. Not that he was complaining. Castie's wings were bad ass, huge and _so fucking_ soft.

After every time they met, every time Dean groomed his wings, every time they shared a bath, every time they spoke to one another, Dean had to force himself away. 

 _Don't do anything stupid_. He continued to tell himself. Like an ongoing mantra on his head he didn't want to mess this all up. He only had once chance. This was it. 

Once the swan was back to his healthy self, he was going to leave. And Dean would once again watch him from afar, pining and moping on what could have been.

He was a pigeon, God damn it, not some lovesick lovebird. He could do this. 

And if Castiel did reject him, _fuck_ , he'd be heart broken. Sure. But at least this way he'd have gotten a good look at Castiel,  gotten to actually know him, to know his likes and dislikes, what he wanted in life, what he was afraid of, what he loved. Dean could still taste the salt of his skin in his tongue, and when Castiel did inevitably leave, Dean would be sated with just that. 

Or so he hoped 

 _Ah fuck_. He wanted another taste.

No. No. This wasn't right. He was just going to go up there, hand Castiel his food and then leave. That was what he was going to do. And...maybe if he wasn't such a coward. Maybe he'd ask for Castiel's hand, to be his mate.

Yeah, that was what he was going to do. It was now or never Winchester. What's the worse that could happen?

He could say no. But that didn't mean he would just run away, he was injured and he was here of his own will. And that meant that Dean could spend the rest of the time he needed to heal, trying to show Castiel just what it meant to be his mate

A swan and a pigeon...the world had seen better, and worse mated couples form. So...maybe they'd be alright?

Stepping into his room, he saw Castiel reading one of the books Sam had brought for him, to entertain him when they were busy. He looked up from his book, placing a scrap of paper in the centre as a bookmark.

"Hello Dean,"

Dean knew he should have offered Castiel one of the guest rooms, letting the swan nest in his own personal space. But Dean was a masochist and he wanted the swans sweet scent all over his room.  
He closed the door behind him with his foot, and made his way to the centre of his room, just by the bed.

"Mom made something special for ya," he said, placing the tray of food onto the corner of his bed.

"I must thank her for the hospitality," Castiel murmured, reaching for a loaf of what looked like sour dough bread. Taking a bite of it, he closed his eyes and savoured the delicious flavour. He'd never get enough of Mary Winchester"s food. 

Opening his eyes again, he saw Dean looking at him oddly, his face was a bright red and his eyes were wide, if not a little glazed over.

Strange. Instead, Castiel continued, "I don't know how to repay you for all your kindness,"

Oh, Dean knew how he could, and it involved them, this bed, and much less clothing.

"I'm..." Dean paused, not sure what to say. It wasn't like he could outright ask a swan to mate with him. But that was what he was here for. So he forced a brave breath and just said it.

"Will you be my mate?"


	10. Pas de Deux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, it's your girl...uhm, yeah, I don't know how that goes.  
> Anywhoo, hope you like~!

_Will you be my mate?_

Was Castiel dreaming? That must have been it; he was having some kind of weird hallucination, a mixture of the sweet and relaxing berries in the bath and the medication. That had to be it. Otherwise how else would he have heard the wonderful pigeon of his dreams, the very bird he had been watching all those years, utter those words?

_Will you be my mate?_

If he hadn’t been so shocked at the surprising way Dean had confessed, he would have thrown caution to the wind, spread his wings – injured or not – and screamed at the top of his lungs that _Dean Winchester had asked him, a swan, to be his mate!_

But the utter shock of it all had stopped him still. He hadn’t expected it, and surely not while he was sitting in Dean’s nest, wrapped in his warm blankets, strong scented fluffy pillows behind him, trapped by the tray of delicious smelling foods and bread before him.

He looked at Dean, staring into those amazing green eyes and he was lost for a completely different reason. He was really getting addicted to the way the pigeon looked at him, like Castiel was the only thing in the entire world. But the pigeon looked hesitant now, like he was worried. He was patiently waiting for Castiel’s reply, but he was shaking with nerves.

Wait…what was Castiel supposed to say? Of course he wanted it, he agreed, _yes, yes, yes._ But was there a way to say yes? Was Dean expecting something alongside the question? Like a ritualistic court gift? Or something?

Castiel wasn’t sure of the traditions and cultures the pigeons held, or if it were anything like the swans. His older brothers had told him about the traditions they as swans upheld, as well as the paths they had to follow in order to show their courting. Rituals that were sure fire to show their want for one another and the like. He’d have to make a nest to show he was a provider of shelter, present Dean with one of his feathers, to show he would sacrifice what he could of himself to keep them happy, to keep them healthy and together for as long as they stayed…and many others that he didn’t dare dwell on right now.

Maybe he could do one of the rituals now. Careful of his broken wing, he reached for one of his feathers. Plucking one of his longest flight feathers, the strongest parts of his wings, he held it in his hands. The twill was black, not like his brethren’s who had snowy white and beautiful wings, his were tarnished, burned, stained.

Would Dean like them? Would he keep them on him, would he surround their nest with the black stains? Would he hold it close and show he cared?

Self-consciousness biting at his heart, Castiel held his feather to his chest, whispering a prayer in the air, wishing that Dean wouldn’t shun him. He was still a swan, and he still had a whole species to uphold after all. He was strong, brave and courageous. He was a swan. He was a swan.

“I am a swan,” he muttered to himself, hoping that by saying it out loud, it would give him the strength to say yes without messing anything up.

He held his feather out to Dean, holding it high in the air. The black twills were slightly crushed, but they still shone with their previous grooming, the oils glistening in the orb lights. He could do this, _properly_. Dean would take the feather, see it as a token of his courting, his agreement to their union, and then maybe they could talk about how they were going to do this. There must definitely be some amazing new insights to the pigeon culture Dean had that Castiel wasn’t aware of.

Looking up, with hope in his eyes, his heart jumped to his throat, because the look on Dean’s face was anything but happy.  Dean looked angry and sad all at the same time. _Disappointment…_ His eyebrows were furrowed.  His eyes were wide, filled with rage, his mouth in a thin line, body taught as a bow string and his hands held to fists at his side.

“Wha-?” Castiel was about to ask, but Dean had cut him off.

“I see how it is,” he said through gritted teeth, getting up off the bed and standing as far from Castiel as he could. “You must be disgusted, how could a pigeon ask for a swan’s hand?”

_What? No!_

Castiel tried to get up off the bed, wanting to reach out to Dean, to tell him, _no…_ no! That’s not what he thought, not at all. But the tray held him fast to the bed, and his injured wing ached on his back, preventing him from getting any further.

“I thought we…” Dean continued his voice a growling whisper. He stood taller now, rigid and strong, not looking at Castiel. “But I guess that was just my imagination,”

He made his way to the door, and Castiel actually felt his heart ache, felt it shatter as he watched Dean’s back retreating, until it reached the door. Those shoulders were shaking, his hands no longer fists, just at his sides.

He had given up?

Castiel was _not_ about to have that. Dean was going to listen to him, and he was going to listen to him good.  

Taking in a deep breath, he held his hands out, curving his wings as far as they could reach. They barely brushed Dean’s back, urging him back to him. “You wait right there, Dean Winchester,”

Dean paused, hand poised at the door handle. His body seemed to fall, shoulders slopping and breath coming out in gasps. Relief, utter and complete relief fell through Castiel then. Because when Dean turned, Castiel saw the tears forming at the corner of those gorgeous eyes, and he just couldn’t take Dean not knowing what he wanted, what he _needed._

He pushed the tray from his lap, placing it on the side table, and slowly stood up. The covers tangled in his legs, and he kicked them off. The cool of the ground seeped into his feet, but he didn’t care. He needed Dean to know.

“Ask me again,” he said, reaching out for Dean once again. The pigeon seemed hesitant, almost frightened of the answer. Did he really think Castiel was going to say no? There was no one in the universe Castiel wanted other than Dean Winchester, and he needed this bird brain to know it. “Ask me again, Dean.”

Dean swallowed loud, collecting his bravery and asked, his voice a whisper. “Castiel Novak, will you be my mate,”

Castiel felt his heart heat up for the second time that night, hearing the courtship, feeling it seep into his bones, the sound reverberating in his ears. He closed his eyes, letting the moment wash over him.

“Yes,” He said, opening his eyes to see the utter ecstasy rise over Dean’s face. The utter joy of that one mere word had brought the sun shining into his beautiful eyes, and Castiel was addicted, he was drugged, high on that smile, on that voice, on those eyes. “More than anything. I want to be your mate, Dean Winchester,”

The atmosphere changed then, the very room warmed. And slowly, Castiel felt his feet move, subconsciously making their way over to Dean. He held his feather in his hand, holding it out in front of them until it pressed against Dean’s broad chest. Dean looked at the feather, looking as if he were unsure of what to do. But he took the wing, held it up in his hands, feeling the softness of his twills, and held it up to the light.

“Awesome,” he muttered, not knowing he had just blown away every single insecurity Castiel held inside him. Startled, he pulled away from Castiel. “I probably should—” He reached for his wing, arching it forward, and plucking his own flight feather. It was smaller than Castiel’s, but broader, and smelled like the world.

Castiel held it close to him, feeling the warmth of it in his fingers. The golden brown had shines of greens and reds within it, distinguishably Dean, that’s what it was. And Castiel adored it with his entire being.

Looking up, he saw the heat in Dean’s gaze, felt it inside _himself,_ reaching up a little. He saw Dean’s lips quirked up into a smile and the pigeon lowered, breath hot and moist, eyes half lidded, one hand came to wrap around Castiel’s middle, pulling him closer. Castiel closed his eyes on impulse, knowing that he had wanted this ever since they had kissed Dean before, the quick, chaste kiss in the bath was nothing compared to what he really wanted.

_He was about to kiss Dean!_

Well, he would have, if it hadn’t been for the incessant wrapping of knuckles on the door.

It was Sam. Castiel wanted to growl; instead he heard Dean chirrup and pull away, looking angry. But that all fell when he heard how frantic Sam sounded.

“Guys, we have a problem,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun...  
> Ever the cock blocking Sam Winchester...


	11. Dance of the Cygnets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one today~!

Dean rushed out after his brother. 

He could see Sam's wings ruffling with excitement, but his eyes showed worry, fear and sadness. Whatever had happened, Dean was going to have to either reign his brother's excitement in or console him from whatever sad thing he had seen.

They rounded the corner and down the stairs, Castiel following slowly, yet dutifully behind them, until they reached the main room. He saw his mother and father standing in front of the sofa, Mary giving someone a drink, while John stood with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the view of whomever had entered their home.

"Is he alright?" Sam asked, making his way over to the man on the sofa, settling to stand just by whoever it was. And that's when Dean saw who it was.

The whiskey eyed swan, the one Sam had been fawning over, before he flew the coop. What was he doing back after all these years?

He heard Castiel appear behind him, and gasp. With a flurry of his injured wings, Castiel was on the man, throwing his arms around the whiskey eyed swan and sobbing quietly into his chest.

A fissure of jealousy burned into Dean's heart, but he forced it back. He didn't know who this swan was, or what he wanted. He was definitely a Novak, what with only the Novak pack allowed in Swan Lake Park. But he wasn't sure if that whiskey eyed swan was a sibling or...or worse, married in. 

Was...Castiel...was he...?

But, Cas had said yes! Cas had agreed to his intent to mate. Was he holding a husband on the side? Would Dean be the mistress? Or...or...

"Gabriel, I'm so glad you're okay!" Castiel said, through tears, his grip tightening on the man. 

The whiskey eyed swan, Gabriel, let out a wheeze and thumped Castiel on his shoulder, nodding and hugging him closer still. "Can't keep me away for too long, bro,"

Bro...

_Brother..._

The jealously washed away from Dean, and instead was replaced by worry. What was Gabriel doing here? Was he going to take Castiel away? Was this his way of saying no to their courting?  _No_ _!_  Dean hadn't even had the chance to  _start_  their courting! They needed time! He needed to build a nest, and...

"...meet Gabriel," Castiel introduced, settling on the spot next to Gabriel. "My brother,"

" _Favourite_  brother," Gabriel added, breaking Dean away from his internal dilemma. He knew he should at least  _act_ accordingly in front of the man. Who knew what power this swan had over Castiel. He could just as easily make or break their new and fragile union.

"Gabriel, this is the Winchesters," Castiel said, holding his arms out to each of them as he introduced his parents, Sam – who turned a bright shade of red when he saw Gabriel wink at him -- and then he pointed to Dean. "and my...my  _mate_ , Dean,"

A flurry of heat rushed through Dean then, followed by a bubble bursting with happiness. Castiel had called him mate, he was Castiel's  _mate,_ Castiel was  _his mate!_

He felt Gabriel's intense stare, and only narrowed his glare to the whiskey eyed swan. He was not going to let Gabriel take Cas away from him. Not now, not ever. Not after Cas had said they were mated.

He felt Sam thump him on his back, and saw his mother smile at him, but he stood strong, showing Gabriel that he was capable, that he was strong, and he was not going to allow Castiel to be far from him.

But instead of anger, or hatred, what he had expected from the haughty Novak pack. Gabriel sat up, wincing a little, and smiled. "Great, that makes this all much easier,"

Gabriel was injured.

The large heart that made Dean who he was, ached a little. He could never turn away an injured person, whether they asked for it or not. He got a good look at Gabriel then, and saw the dust and dirt on the man, there was something wrong with his large – fucking huge in fact – wings, as if he had hurt himself a long while ago, and had hastily fixed it himself. There were cuts and scars that were healed over, but looked surgical, all over his body, and with every move, Gabriel would wince, as if he were in pain.

He must have been hurt somehow. That could have been the case, there weren't many people out there who catered to looking after a swan, and those that did usually experimented or hurt them.

Had Gabriel really just run away from his pack? Because the others in the Novak pack had told everyone that Gabriel had 'flown the coop'. But with his injuries, scarred over cuts and bruises, he could have been captured and taken away by the humans.

If that was the case, then he understood Sam's sadness and worry. Dean was worried himself at just how he had gotten free. If he had broken out, or if he had been set free. Either didn't appeal to Dean, because Gabriel could easily bring the very forces that had captured him to their front door.

"Let's get him comfortable," John said suddenly, making his way out of the room, most likely to get some blankets or something for the new swan in their home.

Mary nodded. "Are you hungry?" She asked Gabriel, and without waiting for him to answer, she made her way to the kitchen area, ready to make a tasty meal for them all.

Castiel, still sitting next to Gabriel, had a smile that made Dean melt a little on the inside. He looked so happy and carefree. But Gabriel still looked worried, he looked up and around, making sure they were alone, before he turned to his little brother.

"Cassie, we've got a problem," He said, holding onto Castiel's hands. "The human who almost took Alfie is going to come back,"

"What?" Sam asked, settling down on the other side of Gabriel. "How can you be so sure?"

"I heard the talking about it when I was..." Gabriel sucked in a breath, and didn't finish his sentence. "Look, just trust me, they’re coming soon,"

So, Gabriel  _had_ been captured. 

"When?" Dean asked,

Gabriel shook his head. "I don’t know, but I know it's going to be soon,"

Dean didn't like the sound of that.

   



	12. Heartswarm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all~!  
> Sorry its been so long, I've been ill and hospitalised for the past...uhh...fortnight or so now, so its taken over my whole writing time.  
> Thankfully I'm able to chill and write a little at a time, so I thought I owed you Swan Lake update. I'll be doing the others slowly too -- its taking three times as long because of the illness, but I should be out and better by the new year.  
> I hope you like this chapter~!

Another day had passed.

Dean pushed the door open and ruffled the rain from his soaking wings. It had been his turn to scope out the area for any sign of humans, he remembered the human woman who had almost taken Castiel, and had taken up as many shifts as he could to try and catch her – and maybe finally scratch that bitch's eyes out for even thinking about hurting his mate.

Sam had been spending a long ass time with Gabriel, that was for sure. He'd be at the whiskey eyed swans' beck and call – well Sam would have been had Dean not overhead Gabriel tell Sam to just relax, that he was fine, and capable of doing things by himself.

That was a lie. It didn't take a detective with a keen eye to see the winces and the limps Gabriel tried and failed to hide with every move he made.

Dean wasn't sure whether he liked that or not. 

Gabriel stayed in Sam's room, he didn't come out at all. Cas was by Gabriel's side more often than not as well, which was another thing Dean didn't like. However, he couldn't just ask Castiel to forget his  _clearly injured_ brother and be with him. What kind of jealous asshole of a bird did that make him?

So,  _of course_ he was roped into taking care of the whiskey eyed swan alongside his family and mate -- f _uck_ _..._ _he_ _had a_ _mate!  --_ but he drew the line at bathing and all that intimate crap. He'd let Sam – the pigeon with a crush like a school girl – do that crap.

He just hoped they'd have enough time for Gabriel to heal up and then maybe he'd be willing to speak to them about what he had heard, and where he had been all those years.

_Captured._

Dean was sure Gabriel had been captured by those fucking humans. 

They had first placed him in the guest room, it was a smaller room in the bottom half of the Winchester Nest, nestled in the base of the trees, the safest and securest part of the house. It had soft and comfy pillows and bedding, a fire light, and high rising windows that let the sun and moonlight through, the sound of the wind swaying through the trees and leaves was less daunting here – they had had that clearly messed up in the head Crowley there a few nights, because the asshole just couldn't not sleep without thinking every sway of the trees and branches was something out to get him – so it wouldn't scare the water-based swans.

It was a lovely room to sleep in.

But as soon as Gabriel spent a few hours in there by himself, Dean had gone in to give him something to eat – it was his turn after all -- he had seen the absolute fright like fire in the swan's eyes, his wings were curled in, body too, and he was rocking back and forth on the bed, muttering something under his breath that Dean had a hard time catching. He barely heard a few words, but what he did hear speared through his heart

... _you're_ _not there anymore..._

_...you're safe now..._

Yup, he had been captured by those humans, most likely put into isolation or a prison that felt similar to this room. Dean was damn sure, of it. So, sure that he had lifted the smaller swan in his arms and trudged him up to the highest room in their home, it was large, had wide open windows and even a skylight. 

Sam's room.

He had told Sam to get the pillows and bedding from the lowest room and bring it up. Gabriel, thankful for the change, was happy to let the larger pigeon swath him in the softest and sweetest smelling bedding, and take care of him.

PTSD was not new in their home, everyone in the nest had some degree of it, so they knew exactly what to look for and what to do if someone had a panic attacks. This was why Dean had informed everyone to stay clear of Gabriel, and to approach him slowly, surely, and be friendly, because the poor swan definitely needed some avian love.

Sam was the only person Gabriel had let close, after that ordeal. Which was why Dean was kinda, sorta, pissed about that. Though he understood there was definitely  _somet_ _hing_ between the two, he wasn't sure if it was healthy or good – he'd give it time, Sam was a big bird, and he could look after himself.

They spent the next few nights just waiting for Gabriel to soldier up enough that they could speak to him about what happened to him, or at least get some information. They didn't want to be left waiting in the dark for someone to attack the swans.

Barely a week had passed when the door to Sam's room opened.

They had been eating dinner, having already passed a tray off to Sam to give to Gabriel, the massive pigeon hadn't returned, and Dean chalked it up to Sam helping Gabriel eat – the swan had been vehement at first to eat anything at all, but now he was happy for Sam to let him do so.

Sam's hulking form came down first, he looked a little skittish as he placed the food tray onto the empty space on the table, but he had a smile on his face, so whatever was happening, couldn't be all that bad. Behind him, still curled in his large wings, was Gabriel, he peered up at them, and Dean could still sense the fear that was swimming in the air around him – he was still panicky around them, and honestly Dean didn't think there would come a time any soon where he wouldn't be – he settled on the seat where Sam usually sat, and let out a breath.

He picked up a spoon and slowly, very slowly, started to eat.

It didn't  _look_  like a big thing, but the past few nights Gabriel had been in their home, he had barely left the bedroom, only to bathe, and even then, he was hidden behind Sam's massive body. Him sitting here, with everyone else at the table, eating food, was a very big accomplishment.

John cleared his throat, and automatically, the rest of the Winchesters, and Castiel, returned back to their food.

They had to take baby steps with Gabriel. He would tell them everything when he was ready, and it seemed he wasn't quite there yet.

Dean didn't want to push it, but he really wished Gabriel would tell them  _something._ He had been sending Bobby, Crowley and Benny out to scope the area every night, even little songbird Jo had come to help, and that was something else entirely. She was only a tiny thing, but a firecracker, that was for sure.

He wanted to make sure they were safe, he had a job to protect the swans, and he was damned to do so.

He was surprised when Gabriel dropped his spoon onto the plate, with a clink, and he looked up.

"I think I'm ready,"


	13. Dance with Goblets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning  
> Michael/Adam is added in this chapter. But its not so prominent, so it shouldn't hinder anyone who doesn't like that pairing.

They moved him to the comfort of the sofa, because hell, what else could they do? Gabriel was shaking, shivering and shuddering as he tried to get the words out. His nails had dug into the wood of the table, and he was only hurting himself more as he relived the memories rushing through his mind.

Sam had jumped up, wrapping his arms, and wings, around the smaller swan, keeping him warm and safe. And at first, Dean wanted to ask what the hell that was, because wrapping wings around someone else was something only family members, or those wanting to be intimate did. But when he saw Gabriel visibly relax, he let it go.

Gabriel needed this.

And Dean could speak to Sam later.

So, they helped him to the sofa, where Mary quickly took the plates and cutlery from the table and moved them to the kitchen, John helped her, making quick work of cleaning the dining table, he knew sometimes PTSD made people skittish, and having knifes and other hurtful implements around could be a bad thing – no one wanted what happened to Bobby, happen again – Castiel fluffed the cushions and pillows around Gabriel, making the swan as comfortable as possible. Sam sat next to him, wings still wrapped around the man, the arch of his wing curved over Gabriel's shoulders, shielding him. Dean went to get a blanket, mostly because she felt like she needed to  _do_ something, and not just stand there like a loon.He wrapped the blanket around Gabriel's legs, and leaned back against the back of the dining chair. Now they waited.

It took a while for Gabriel to stop shivering, Dean could understand, memories of his life before he found Swan Lake Park...it still haunted him, waking him up in the middle of the night, sweating and screaming. Though, he had his family, people who understood him, and cared for him.He had his mate now.

"I..." Gabriel's breath caught, so he took in another deep breath and continued. "Those humans are...I  _never_ want to go back there,"

"And you won't," Sam said, with such confidence, with such conviction, that even Dean believed he would tear down anyone and anything to keep Gabriel safe. Well, his little Sammy was growing up.

Gabriel's gaze darted to Sam, turning soft. He took in another brave breath and started the story, one that would haunt Dean so much more than his own provocations. 

Gabriel had been tortured. 

There was no easy way to stomach anything that he had told them. With that quaking voice, words coming out in jumbles as he tried to get over the worst of his years in the human care, slurring with tears as he forced himself to keep talking.

Dean wanted him to stop, he didn't want to hear anymore. Because Gabriel, this small swan, he had been tortured. Starved, with only poisonous nutrients to keep him alive. He had had his wings strung up, the primaries plucked out with metal contraptions that were made to cause pain. Only so he couldn't escape. Dean could  _see_ what they had done to his wings, he could see the smaller primaries growing, thankfully, but Gabriel wouldn't be able to fly until they reached maturity. Just  _how_ he had gotten here. How he had gotten all the way up to the Winchester Den in the trees...

Dean was going to feel sick, and he wanted Gabriel to stop.

If it hadn't been for the other swan, Gadreel – no last name, there hadn't been time for Gabriel to find out. If it hadn't been for Gadreel's noble sacrifice, keeping the humans distracted long enough for Gabriel to escape, attacking the humans and getting deliberately hurt for the swan, Gabriel would not have gotten here, he would not be able to warn them.

Because the humans were coming.They were coming for the swans.

The sound of someone knocking on their door jerked Dean from his stupor. He saw John walk out from the kitchen – knowing they had been eavesdropping on Gabriel's story - and made his way to the door. Dean watched, with interest as to who had come at such a dire time, but was called over by his father.

"Dean, I think you should come here," John said, sounding strong as he spoke, like the alpha he was.

Worried at that tone of voice, Dean took a glance as Castiel, seeing he was just as worried, and made his way to the door. Outside stood Michael, Castiel's older brother. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and was staring down at Adam Milligan, another pigeon, and Dean's estranged brother – in a sense, he had been looking after the Milligan runt ever since Kate had passed away all those years back, when Adam was still a hatchling, but they weren't about to get into  _that_ just now – he was glaring daggers at the taller swan.

"What brings you here, Michael?" Dean asked, standing straight and crossing his arms over his chest.

Michael gave him a look, one that showed he was exasperated, it was not the same disdained and disgusted look Lucifer would give them every time they met. Michael was the smarter one of the two, he followed what Charles had told them.

Swan's allowed Pigeons into their territory, and the Pigeons protected the Swan's from outsiders.

"I'm here for my brother," Michael simply stated, peering up and over Dean to look into the nest. Thankfully for Dean, the hallway did not show the living room, where two Novak's were currently sitting, recuperating.

Dean wanted to quip 'which one', but thought to stay silent.

"I heard about the..." He paused for a moment, his face twisting in disgust. "Humans invading, and I, on behalf of the swans, would like to give my thanks,"

"Yeah, sure." Dean replied quickly, giving Michael a once over.

"Michael, this is not the time," Adam said, standing in between them, holding his arms out, wings stretching across the doorframe, hiding the inside from view.

_When did Adam know the swan by f_ _irst_ _name basis?_

He saw Michael's eyes soften, before Adam's wings took over his sight. And Dean knew then, that Adam hadn't spread his wings to hide the inside from Michael, but in fact to hide Michael from  _them._

_Another Winchester Novak couple?_

Nah, it couldn't be. Adam... _with_   _Michael?_

Not wanting to even begin to understand what the hell was happening with  _all of that,_ he manhandled Adam's wings, brushing them aside and standing before the smaller man. The  _teenager Michael, Adam is a teenager._ He narrowed his gaze at the stone face Michael had put up and let out a breath.

This was stupid, and pointless. The swans were in danger. If what Gabriel was saying was true, then they needed to work together in order to save Swan Lake Park. He had created roots here, he had a family, and a mate here, he wasn't about to let some  _humans_ take that away.

"Your brothers are here," He said, shocking John out of his alpha stupor. "But we've got bigger things to worry about."

" _Brothers?"_ Michael mouthed the plural, and Dean could see he was itching to push them all aside so he could see Castiel, and the other brother – who  _had_ to be Gabriel. But he stood stoic and still, because he needed to stay focused. "What bigger things?"

Dean narrowed his gaze, wondering if he should let Michael, who had obviously come because Chuck had told him, though he may have just volunteered in a rouse to meet Adam, to meet his brothers. But they did have a bigger, badder worry right now.

"Humans are coming,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Gabriel...


	14. Entrance and Waltz of the Special Guests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning.   
> MIDAM!   
> Michael and Adam's relationship is mentioned~!

"Did you say _humans are coming?_ "

Michael's gaze narrowed, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like he wanted to scoff at Dean, because that couldn't be right. Humans never ventured into Swan Lake Park, and the piteous fools that did were thwarted by the wildlife that surrounded the lake and protected the swans.

This was Dean and his flocks  _job_ to protect them _._ They were supposed to take care of the swans. Would Dean and the others in his flock be able to protect them from whatever threat these humans would bring this time?

Michael didn't want to think about it. The thought of his brothers and sisters being taken away, it made his heart ache. They had already taken Gabriel, and almost took Samandriel. Castiel had been injured so badly that he hadn't even returned home, instead choosing to stay cooped up in this awful place in the skies, recuperating – and doing god knows what else.

If it weren't for little Adam, Michael would have come in when he had first heard of Castiel's demise, and taken his brother back home. If it hadn't been for the pretty little pigeon, who stood his ground, held his wings out and pushed Michael away, saying that Castiel needed to be cared for by  _Dean_ of all people. 

Well, if it hadn't been for Adam, then Michael wouldn't have found his mate in him.

And the thought of his little mate, who was still a little too young for them to consider doing anything that involved more than a simple courting – Michael was patient, he would wait until his mate was grown, and then bite that pretty neck, marking him for the world to see. The thought of his mate being hurt because of humans? That didn't sit well with Michael at all.

Not wanting to get angry over a war that would surely start, he let out a trying breath. Looking up, he saw the determination, the honesty, in Dean's words.

_Humans were coming._

"Let me see my brother," he said instead, reaching a wing out to curve around Adam, hoping that Dean understood he was here on peaceful terms. He had a mate in Adam, and he wasn't going to leave until he saw his brother – and the _other_  swan.

Dean let his gaze run over his white wing, seeing where it curved, eyeing the primaries touching Adam's shoulder, meshing with his smaller wings, and seeing how  _at home_ Adam seemedwith this all. As if this kind of touching was a normal occurrence between them both.

Son of a bitch,  _another_ swan and pigeon mating. He was going to have to have a nice, long chat with Adam about patience and waiting for the right time. Because Dean knew Michael, but he also knew Michael didn't seem like the type of swan who would take an under aged kid.

If Michael couldn't wait another two years, when Adam was old enough, then Dean would have to step in. And he really didn't want to, because he saw the visible way Adam relaxed in that familiar hold. There was definitely something there.

Dean moved to the side, holding his arm up to the inside of the house, allowing Michael entrance. It wasn't surprising that Adam followed him - like a lost sheep, if Dean had to pinpoint what he looked like.

The audible gasp coming from the living room caused him alarm. But when he got into the living room, he saw a flurry of white wings and arms wrapped around one another in the middle of the sofa. There was someone crying, or someone's, he didn't know. He let them stay like that for a few moments, letting the eldest brother get back in touch with his two brothers.

Michael pulled back, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He held onto Gabriel, as if making sure the swan was really there. "Gabriel, my little brother. I thought you'd died,"

"I almost did," Gabriel answered, his voice breaking under the threatening tears. "I was captured, but I got free,"

"You always were good at getting out of sticky situations," Michael mused, unable to take it. He reached for Gabriel again, checking the fading bruises on his skin, and the harsh beatings on his wings, and hugged him for dear life once again.

Dean found it to be an awkward, and very odd sight to see  _Michael_ acting like this. Then again, the situation called for it. He was glad they had a chance to finally be together again. But he had a dark feeling in the pit of his stomach. What if Cas left him now that Michael and Gabriel were here? Michael would clearly want the swans out of the nest. Would Cas follow him?

Michael pulled back again, clearing his throat, and turned to Castiel, tsking at his wrapped wing and pulling him into a hug as well. Castiel gladly took the tight grip and melted into his older brothers embrace, letting out little happy chirps at them all being together.

Dean's heart cracked a little at that. Would this be the last time he saw his mate?

John cleared his throat, breaking Dean's thoughts. Dean watched him making his way to the kitchen, to where Mary was peering out of, looking in on the Novak reunion. She turned away then, hiding back into the kitchen alongside her husband, leaving Sam, Dean and Adam in the living room.

"Captured," Michael said suddenly, leaning back and eyeing Gabriel with a stern look. "By humans?"

Gabriel nodded, looking away, not wanting to relive the memories he had just brought forth moments before. "I'd rather not talk about it, brother,"

Michael hummed, and stood back up. He eyed the Winchester brothers, and clucked his teeth. "Okay, let's get you home so we can talk about this with father and the others,"

_No, this is too soon!_  Dean wanted to break their little powwow and tell Michael that Castiel – and Gabriel – wasn't going anywhere. They were mates, and Castiel was going to stay with Dean, not in such a dangerous place, not while Dean could help it. But Castiel stood up instead, holding his hands to his sides, showing he wasn't a threat right now. But his gaze was vicious. 

"I agree we need to talk," he started, "but I'm not leaving,"

Michael raised an eyebrow. "You need to be with your kind, Castiel, to recover,"

"I have recovered well enough here," Castiel replied, standing in front of Gabriel, knowing that the smaller swan would want to stay in the Winchester Nest just like he had. He knew he couldn’t be wrong with the interactions he saw with Gabriel and Sam. He was  _sure_ Gabriel wanted to at least try to mate with Sam, and them leaving the nest now...who knew when they'd get a chance to meet again?

Castiel didn't want to leave his mate. Looking back, he saw Dean standing there, his hands in fists to his side, wanting to come between them, but knowing it best for the Novak's to sort this out between themselves. Castiel was thankful of that.

"I will not leave my mate," Castiel added bravely.

Michael's eyes narrowed, trailing over his brother, and back to the pigeon standing at the doorway. He stood in silence for a long while, and Dean had the notion he would take Castiel and Gabriel forcefully out of the nest. Denying them meeting ever again, and leaving Dean and Castiel back to square one, watching one another from afar.

Michael stood still, gaze darting back and forth from Dean and Castiel, before they settled on the pigeon. Dean stood up straighter, wings curled back in a threatening manner, hoping Michael understood that Castiel wasn't leaving here without a fight.

"So be it." Michael said through forced teeth. He gave them one last look and turned his attention to Dean. "What would you have us do about the humans?"

"You're..." Castiel felt the weight on his shoulders fly away. "You're letting us stay?"

Michael cocked his head back. "I don't have a say with that, you'll need to take it up with your father,"

The look on Castiel's face, the pure shock, and the sudden stark white of his skin, worried Dean more than it should have. Charles "Chuck" Novak was good people, wasn't he?


	15. Shooting Rockets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little insight to Chuck Novak.

_"He is my mate,"_

Castiel's words reverberated in the large lake, sinking into the waters by their feet, solidifying in the stars above them. And he was glad for that, it was something that he wanted, something that he was going to let himself have. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life watching his mate from the sidelines anymore. He had tasted his mate, tasted those lips, and he didn't want to part from Dean. Never again. The beautiful feather was dangling on a thin chain around his neck, under his shirt, close to his heart.

But his father didn't seem happy. Chuck's face fissured with negativity, with anger. The swans around him noticed his anger, and backed away a little, taking one quaint step back. However, Michael and Lucifer were by his side, ever the good sons.

It should have been easy.

Well, okay, maybe the whole inter species relationship between a swan and a pigeon, the whole stupid class hierarchy and the whole interloping threat of humans invading their peaceful land, wasn't exactly considered easy.

But Castiel honestly thought that  _this –_ this being the beautiful and wonderful budding relationship with one pigeon Dean Winchester, should have been effortless. They had swapped feathers, courted, and mated. All that was left now was their marks on one another and showing their love for one another with their bodies. Sure Castiel's face turned a bright red, and his stomach did a weird jump at the thought. But he was ready, and  _so wanting._

But no, they had to go through some stupid –  _very_ stupid – Romeo and Juliet mash up, where his father – who, for all intents and purposes should have understood just what it meant to  _have_ a mate with another species (not that Castiel  _knew_ who his mother was, she had died when he was just a swanling) but he should be rejoicing in the three bonds that were to tie the swans to the pigeons.

But his father was standing there, in Castiel's family home on the lake, arms crossed over his chest and acting all alpha – which was another odd thing, because Castiel hadn't ever really seen this side of him before.

He stood next to his mate in front of his father, angling himself before Dean, just in case his father decided to start a verbal fight. He'd prefer to get the wrath of his father, than force Dean towards it. Gabriel stood next to him, looking a little less pale and frightened from his torture ordeal, Sam stood behind him, tall and gallant.

Michael stood next to his father – ever the acquiescent son, ready to do whatever his father told him, without argument. And that hurt Castiel a little, because he had seen a glimmer of something between him and the young Milligan pigeon. How could Michael just...stay away?It took every ounce of Castiel right there and then to not shield Dean away from the negative vibes coming from his father and fellow swans and protect him from everything around them.

But alas, here they stood, like some Western standoff, waiting for one another to start the battle.

Who knew the idea of flying down in the arms of their mates – or in Sam and Gabriel's case 'intended mates', because Castiel was damn sure there was something more prominent than friendship there – and making their way to the centre of Swan Lake Park where their father lay, would cause such a ruckus.At first, Chuck had been wonderful, greeting them into his home, welcoming their protectors and offering them tea – which again, was another odd thing.

But when Dean had told them of the humans, of the threat that was looming above them. Chuck's face had fallen to worry. Dean had told him there wasn't a need for him to worry, but they would need to pool their resources, keep the little ones safe in the confines of the trees – where the humans wouldn't be able to get to them – while those who were able got arms and fought against the threat.

"Swan's don’t fight," his father had stated outright.

Well, that was a lie. Lucifer was amazing with a sword, and Michael had tactics down pat. This was just his father acting all holier than thou, and it was sickening. There was an active threat out there, one that could hurt  _all of them._

_"Father!"_ Gabriel cried, holding out his arms, spreading out his battered wings spread to show the harsh mutilation the humans were able to do to their kind. "This is not a joke,"

Chuck faltered, seeing the bruises and contusions all over his son, he wanted to cradle his swanling in his arms and rock him to an easy rest. He had wished, desperately, that this was not their future. That the humans were not a threat to them.But he had seen the bloodshed they could cause – it was why they had moved here – and yet, it followed him wherever he went. He was not safe;  _his family_ were not safe. It had ripped his very heart out when he found that Gabriel had not left of his own accord, but he had been taken, taken by those merciless humans. And for what? Did they get what they wanted, after torturing him so?

It hurt when his little Samandriel had almost been taken again, there was an immense pain and ache in his very body. And he had decreed to himself there and then, that no one else would be taken. No one else would be hurt. And  _he_ would not have to see another one of his swans, his darling children, be hurt.

Losing his wife had destroyed him enough.

"I will not allow my swans to fight," He replied quietly, holding his ground.

Dean growled, wings taut to his back. He paced over the soiled ground until he stood directly in front of Chuck. His hands clenched to fists at his side.

"You're a damn coward." He said quietly, seeing Chuck hold his arm out to Michael and Lucifer, both who reacted to his words. "You allow others to do your dirty work, and for what? You won't even let your own children love who they want. Humans  _are_ coming. And I will damn well make sure  _my mate_ is safe,"

Chuck winced, knowing it to be true. He was a coward, keeping his children behind locked doors. But what else could he do. He didn't think his heart could take it. "I cannot lose another swan,"

"And if we work together," Sam answered, making everyone turn to him. "If we get all of our strengths together, you won't lose anyone,"

"I know how those humans work," Gabriel added bravely. "I've seen what they can do,"

Sam stood fast, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're not going into any battle, Gabe,"

Gabriel scoffed, wincing a little as his wings ached a phantom pain. "You can't stop me, babe. I want to do this, you  _need_ me to do this."

Chuck called out Gabriel's name, knowing his son enough to know there was no way Gabriel was going to change his mind now. He reached for his son then, holding onto his arm and tugging him forward into a quaint, fatherly hug.

"You are so disobedient," he said quietly, holding a chuckle back. "But I know you have to do this," -- turning to Dean, he added -- "I will allow you my best fighters,"

"Take your little ones, and the ones not fit to fight, to Winchester Den," Dean replied, knowing this was the best they were going to get out of the man. "It’s the safest place,"

Chuck nodded and turned to his swan family. "You heard him, the quicker the better. Humans are coming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the battle commence!


	16. Dance of the Swans

The forest was quiet. A little too quiet.

Dean could hear the rustling of feathers around him as the other swans, _fighters_ , stood systematically around him. It was hard to hide the gleaming white wings on all of them, but they were well hidden in the shrubbery and treeline. He stood in the middle of the circle they had created, hearing the tell tale movement of his fellow pack members around him. Charlie, Benny, Bobby and even Crowley came out to defend the habitants of Swan Lake Park.

With Cas and Gabriel injured, they were out of commission, instead looking after the rest of the brood, those who were too young or too old to fight. He turned and saw the parks lake behind them, seeing Charles Novak – who was still adamant on not fighting the humans, less they dwindle in numbers. And Dean understood that, there were too many swanlings in their pack, if any one of them were to be taken, it would be a devastating blow, on all of the habitants of Swan Lake Park.

And Dean wasn’t going to let that happen.

His feathers twitched as the air shifted. The distinct sound of something rushing through the leaves was heard ahead of them, near the exit, as if someone was running around them. There was another similar sound, followed by another, and another.

They were here.

The trees obscured his vision, but Dean knew this park like the back of his hand. A second later, there was a rustle of leaves to his left, where Benny the bear was standing.

He didn’t expect humans to go for the bear first.

A second, closer rustling sounded to his right, nearest to Crowley, the crow widened his wingspan, cawing lightly, signalling them. There was a single whoosh of wind that zoomed past Dean’s cheek, and he heard one of the swan’s grunt, before falling down in a gasp of pain.

Fuck, projectiles!

They hadn’t expected projectile weapons. Dean spun around quickly, holding his hands out, but his wings close to his body. He saw the swan that had been hit get up, fire in his eyes, as he yanked the small bullet like arrow from his wing, before straightening it out. It faltered a little, but he was still able to move it.

That swan was a bad ass.

Another swooshing sound sounded from around them, but Dean had already figured out where the humans were. They had stupidly tried to circle them, but the circle was too big, the spaces in between were too wide. He flapped his wings once, taking to the air, the others followed him in a v formation, and landed almost comically in front of the humans.

Dean took hold of the weird crossbow looking weapon in one of the human’s hands, throwing it behind him, before clawing at his eyes. The human, shocked still at the sudden appearance of a pigeon, cried in pain, doubling over and holding onto his bleeding face.

Dean smirked when he heard many other humans do the same. But he grunted when an arrow lodged into the curl of his wing. With a confident burst of angry energy, Dean zoomed over to the next human, kicking away his weapon and clawing at his skin. Slowly, he had gotten through at least five humans, having suffered a few blows himself.

A toe curling laugh broke him out of his revere. The sound of humans and animals fighting was brought to the back of his mind as Dean saw her, the woman that had hurt his mate. She stood there, in the middle of the clearing, her hair done up in a nice neat bun, her suit all cleanly pressed.

He wanted to kill her.

“Pigeons fighting with swans?” she said her voice sickly and sallow.

Dean spread his wings and flapped once, landing in front of her with ease. She looked up at him, her eyes narrow.

“Pathetic,” she spat. “You’re no match for me,”

“I think we’re doing pretty well,” Dean replied, rolled his eyes, looking around to the carnage he and his pack mates, and the swans, had created. Humans, on the ground, unconscious, bleeding, some crying and screaming into the air.

He watched as she snapped her fingers, the sound reverberating through the air. Then he heard it, the sound of at least twenty footsteps passing through the clearing. The men were dressed in all black, dark eyes watching them.

Dean turned, seeing his fellow pack mates standing around him in an outward circle. He saw Sam and Benny and Michael standing next to one another at one end, while Crowley and Ellen and Bobby took the other end. The swans, each and every one of them, were up and ready to fight. Leaving him in the middle, facing off the leader.

One of the taller, more built looking men stepped forward, motioning for a few others to follow him. He saw another man do the same on the other side, and suddenly they were equally numbered.

The human leader looked at Dean. “My name is Naomi,” she said slowly, her voice was rather raspy, echoing over the clearing. “Give me the swans, and we will go easy on you,”

Dean scoffed, a smirk reaching his lips. “Not happening,”

Naomi’s face sunk into a glower. “Be that way,”

“Protect the lake!” Dean yelled to the others as he made his way towards the closest human, jumping up. Before the man even had the time to react, Dean brought his leg down powerfully over the black clad human in front of him. His attack connected and the man crumpled to the ground.

Landing gracefully on the soil, he swept his left leg to the other black clad man that had rushed over to him, making him fall to the ground in another heap. From his position, he lifted his hand into the air, palm facing up, slamming into the human’s chin, and knocking him out.

Sam flapped over him, pivoting over his outstretched first, and did a graceful back flip, swiftly kicking the third human behind him and the other two that had rushed up before him.

Carnage consumed them. Michael extended his claws and spun out into a half circle, scarring four of the men that stood around him, his eyes widened when he saw one of them go after Dean and Sam. He extended his wings out and flapped them up, landing gracefully onto the human that was about to attack the pigeons.

Dean turned suddenly, seeing Michael standing on top of a human, looking so damn graceful as he did so.

“I didn’t do it for you,” Michael replied, nonchalantly, as he stomped his foot down on the human’s back. “But Adam would be upset if you two were harmed,”

Dean nodded his thanks, watching as he flew over them, aiming his claws at the other humans, fighting to keep their home safe. Dean did a quick sweep of the fight, seeing his pack mates taking out a majority of the humans, Bobby slicing his claws into two of the humans, while Benny swiped at three of them.

Slowly, the humans were dropping like flies, but not without injuries to themselves. Crowley was hurt, as was Bobby, and Dean could no longer see Ellen or Charlie.

Naomi’s eyes widened and her smirk dropped a little more every time she saw her army falling one by one because of the animals. She saw one of the crossbows on the ground and reached for it, narrowly dodging a swan swiping at her.

She held the crossbow up, cocking it back and aiming for the leader. The arrow zoomed through the air, in a fine line, hitting its target dead on.

Dean’s eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the tip of the arrow at his chest, it was quickly followed by a fire like pain that bloomed over his chest. Everything seemed to fall into slow motion, he watched as the human his baby brother had been fighting crumple to the ground unconscious, and cried out his name.

Sam turned to his name, seeing Dean’s pale face moments before he fell to the ground.

“Dean!” he cried, rushing over to his bother. He lifted Dean up from the ground, holding him close.

At that moment, it was like the entirety of Swan Lake Park stilled, not a single sound was made. Silence, as they all watched, unable to do anything but witness Dean in pain. Gasping for breath as he tried to get up.

“No Dean, stay down,”

Dean closed his eyes; trying to force back the pain the arrow was conflicting on him. No, not now. He couldn’t…he hadn’t even…Castiel…

The ruffling sound of thousands and thousands of wings followed by the screeching sound of an angry swan reverberated in his ears. Dean looked up at the skies, seeing a beautiful being make their way down from his nest.

Cas…what was he doing here?

He was suddenly swathed in an immensely warm heat, coughing at the pain in his chest, he tried to lift himself up to see his mate, his beautiful, wonderful, _still injured,_ mate holding onto him, cradling him close.

“How dare you,” Castiel sounded livid, he sounded angry.

The humans looked frightened now. Fuck that, they should. His mate was a gorgeous fucking bad ass.

He barely saw what happened next, but he felt Castiel carefully laid him on the ground, before getting up. He heard the inhuman screeching, following by the blood curdling scream of the human woman, Naomi sounded like she was being mutilated.

There was that sound of thousands of wings again, and Dean felt himself being lifted up in the air hands all over his body, holding him, cradling him, and lifting him up to the lake.

_The lake…?_

He heard Chuck’s voice, saying something, but he couldn’t…he didn’t understand what was happening any more. He felt a familiar pair of arms wrapping around him once again, and he knew Castiel was by his side again. So were Sam, and Gabriel. Hey when had they gotten here?

And then he felt the cold, frozen waters of the lake surrounding him.


	17. Swan Lake

With a gasp escaping from his lips, Dean shot up from the comfortable bed. A quick glance to his surroundings told him everything was fine. He was at home, in his room. Safe. He still breathed heavily and a shiver went down his spine. He had been dreaming a terrible dream, but now he could not remember what it had been about.

Somehow, that thought made his glad.

His thoughts returned to how he had gotten back home and to his bed. He couldn’t remember much more than a pain in his midsection and a freezing cold enveloping him. Suddenly a warm feeling washed over him, making his smile. He remembered Castiel rescuing him. Had his mate carried him to safety?  

He shivered in delight. His gaze quickly panned to the open window, the soft slow breeze wafted its way into his room, making him shudder.

“You’re awake,” a soft, and familiar voice came from the door.

Looking up, Dean saw his beautiful mate with a look of relief in his eyes. His gorgeous wings were curved a little around him, showing just how nervous and worried he had been. Rubbing his sleeping eyes, Dean pulled the covers from his body, stretching out his wings, and got out of the bed. He felt a twinge in his stomach, and looked down. He’d been shot, hadn’t he?

But there was nothing there. Not even a scratch.

“What happened?” he asked, lifting his shirt up to get a better look at his skin.

“Don’t strain yourself, I’ll explain everything,” Castiel ushered him back onto the bed. Dean complied, if only to hear about how he was at deaths door, only to come back to life with no marks to show for it.

Castiel pushed him back into his nest, covering him with pillows and blankets, keeping him warm. The cool breeze from the slightly opened window ruffled his hair and twitching feathers, and that did little to cool Dean’s ardour. With each passing second, Dean remembered the sound, the sights, and the power coming from Castiel as he thundered out of their nest, hell bent to save him from his demons, gripping him tight and taking him out to safety. It unravelled the very fabrics of his reserves, and he was so glad Castiel had chosen him as his mate.

Castiel settled down next to Dean, taking the edge of the many blankets around him and smoothing them down. He arched his wings forward, meshing their primary feathers together, gasping in a breath at the feel. _Stalling._ That’s what he was doing. Dean took his hands, leaning over to his mate. Moonlight illuminated his lovers beautiful face, and Dean felt like he was drawn to him like an invisible cord was tugging him closer.

But he needed answers.

The muscles on Castiel’s jaw moved, giving him a powerful look that Dean was glad he possessed, he wasn’t one to have a pushover lover, and he was glad Castiel was someone strong and caring.

“The Lake water,” Castiel said quietly. “You had to be submerged,”

Dean paused. That explained the freezing cold feeling enveloping him. He had thought that was probably death greeting him. But to think Castiel had dunked him into the water of Swan Lake. But what for?

“What does getting me wet have to do with what’s happening?” he paused, motioning to his entire body.

Castiel took in a breath, his wings rising and falling along with his chest as he breathed. He was steadying himself for the information he was about to give out. Dean saw how worried he was, how he was fighting with himself. And he listened intently, finding this just as important.

“There’s a reason why humans want to take over Swan Lake Park,” Castiel replied slowly, his gaze darted to his lap, where his hands were fidgeting, fingers playing with the ends on the blankets. “The water’s hold healing properties, I’m not sure why,”

Dean jerked back, letting the information wash over him. It…well, none of it made sense. Sure the lake was surrounded by a rocky platform, and tall pillars. There was also something _clean_ about it. The waters were always crystal clear, and beautiful to look at.

But to think it had healing properties.

“Maybe the underwater plant life?” Castiel said, trying to explain the phenomenon to himself, but he shook his head.

Dean asked; “And the human’s want that?”

“It seems so,” Castiel replied, “Ever since father had settled us into Swan Lake Park, the humans had been furious,”

“That’s why your father got us to help,” Everything was starting to make some semblance of sense. After all, there was always that little bit of worry why the swans couldn’t take care of themselves, why they hired the other animals that lived in the large park to look after them, and to drive away any threat to them.

If Chuck or any of the stronger swans left the lake or were hurt in keeping the lake safe, then the humans would come. And it would be so easy to take the lake for their selves. Including its’ healing properties.

“But it doesn’t _work_ on humans,” Castiel said suddenly catching Dean off guard. He reached for Dean then, laying his head on his chest, shoulders shaking with unshed sobs. “I thought…I didn’t know if it would work on pigeons,”

Dean’s nose filled with the clean scent of his mate, feeling those arms wrapped tight around his body, fingers tight as they caressed down his back. He was burying himself in Dean’s embrace, and Dean welcomed him.

“I thought I lost you,” Castiel’s voice was a deep whimper next to his ear, and it made Dean’s heart ache. “I’m so glad you’re okay,”

“I’m fine now,” Dean replied, breath snagging in his throat. He squeezed his eyes tight, thinking of the possibility of what might have been. He may have died, lost his life, his love and his family.

But everyone else…

His family would have been devastated. Oh god, _Sam had been there,_ he had held him, crying and screaming for him to stay awake, to stay alive. If it hadn’t been for Cas.

And Cas…they had only just mated, their bond was still so fresh, still at its strongest, before they build on it and settled into their beautiful mating. If Dean had died, then the mark on Castiel, the one that bound them together, the love they shared, it would have festered like an open wound on.

He wished and prayed that something like this would never happen again. But he knew, if and when push came to shove, he would be right back there on the front lines, fighting the good fight – hopefully with Cas by his side, and hopefully not in the next few decades.

“I...” Castiel didn't know what to say. All of the events that had happened that night rushed into him and he stopped.

“Cas?”

He hadn't replied for a long minute, instead just leaning his head on Dean’s chest, making his hair breeze against his arm.

“I was scared,” Castiel had murmured at last.

Dean pulled Castiel’s smaller frame closer to him, tugging the many blankets over them both, tucking them into a nice, warm nest. He was suddenly aware of something wet against his shoulder. Castiel was crying. Wrapping his arm around his mates shoulder, Dean pulled him closer.

“We’re safe now,”

“I didn't...” His voice was muffled. His head had turned until Dean had heard his next words right below his ear. “For a moment I thought... I thought...” He'd trailed off, sounding as if he needed to pull himself together. “If I hadn’t heard you…if I hadn’t gotten there in time…”

“I’m here, I’m alive, we’re both safe now,” Dean repeated, though his reassurance seem to be taking its sweet time to reach Castiel; he kept murmuring his worries and fears into Castiel’s skin, his breath tickling with every word. It had gotten to a point at which Castiel couldn't decipher his voice any more.

Dean caught Castiel’s hands in his, unclenching them from his shoulders and turning around to face him. Castiel had not hidden from his scrutiny this time. His eyes had been wide, the pupils dilating and contracting with the moonlight. Instead of shying away, Dean had met his gaze, holding Castiel in his stare.

“Cas?”

He hadn't finished the word before Castiel launched himself back into Dean’s chest, arms thrown around his body and tightening in a grasp that seemed almost desperate.

“I was so scared,” he'd repeated. “Please, don't leave me,”

Dean had been moved by the tears threatening to fall. He'd taken Castiel’s chin between his fingers, bringing his face closer.

“I will not leave you, I promise,” he'd said slowly, willing the smaller man to believe it. Castiel nodded.

Dean had expected Castiel to stand up and blush. He'd thought Castiel would smile; his cheeks a deep pink, and give him one last hug before letting him rest. But instead, Castiel had closed the space between them, and Dean barely had time to see those beautiful blue eyes close before feeling the pressure of Castiel’s lips on his own.

Castiel's advances had been insistent; his lips, once lightly, once firmly, playing over his without pause. Dean had to take a moment, intent on stopping his mate, he didn’t know where anyone else was, and he really didn’t want anyone walking in on them.

But Castiel had chosen that moment to murmur his name and instead, Dean’s grasp had stayed loose, thumbs caressing the skin above Castiel’s collar without his permission. He had tried to say his name, but Castiel had taken that chance for his advantage, pressing his attack by slipping his tongue between Dean’s lips.

Reason fled out the window, logic and sanity mesmerized by Castiel's actions. And Dean? Dean had been helpless to do anything but return that kiss, if only to taste Castiel once before he man recovered his senses. The kiss had been awkward, lips, teeth and tongues finding each other without order. But after a while the tension had lessened, lightening the kiss into something gentler. He'd felt Castiel’s teeth worrying his lips for a second before he licked them and began again.

There'd been a point at which Dean had forgotten where he was and why he shouldn't do this; the only thing that mattered was Castiel kissing him. Castiel in his arms. Castiel pressing against him and running his hands carefully across his back. His touch had inundated his world.

Castiel slowly backed away, feeling light headed and short of breath. Oh god. “I...I didn't, I mean...I'm sorry, I—you’re still recovering,”

Dean didn’t let him get far; leaning forward and pressing another breath taking kiss on those kiss bruised lips.

“Never apologise for kissing me,” he murmured, caressing whatever part of Cas he could reach. Castiel let out a low groan that turned Dean on more than it should have.

Dean’s tightened his grip on his mate, pulling the blankets tighter over them both. He never wanted to let Castiel go. And after that awful scare, he was going to make sure he had a long and healthy life with his love, and his family.

“I love you Dean,” Castiel murmured, looking up into those eyes, hoping to portray just how much he meant it.

Dean shuddered in his mates’ arms, looking up into those beautiful green eyes he had been watching ever since he had stepped down onto Swan Lake Park.

“I love you too, Cas,” he replied, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to Castiel’s lips. “My mate,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that's all she wrote.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who commented, kudosed and read this fic. All of your lovely comments mean the world to me.  
> Thanks RahelKnight, for being the first comment, and helping motivate me from the get go.  
> deadgloves, for your lovely inspiration to make them like actual ballerinas!  
> Sleepless_siren, Angel1399, bookwormsince2001, ThatOnePerson, QueenofHearts, and Redamber79, thank you for all of your lovely comments!  
> Thank you Blackangel150, for always being there, commenting on every chapter and making me feel all sorts of special!  
> Special shout out to Le Star-Lord, dude you tried, but I don't think I'll ever be able to see Zarkon and Shiro as a couple, but I like your flair for story telling, and song writing!
> 
> Thank you all of my darlings, and I hope to continue writing with all of your support.


End file.
